


Above Water

by PandaTurtle333



Series: S.O.S. [8]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Horror, Loss, PTSD, Romance, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 60,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaTurtle333/pseuds/PandaTurtle333
Summary: In the eighth installment of the S.O.S. series, with the war against the Saviors in full swing, Anna Wycoff and the others find themselves torn between waiting and acting; vengeance and surrender; the past and the future. Compromises will need to be reached, but can they reconcile what they want with what needs to happen?
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Series: S.O.S. [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1229975
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

Anna sat at the kitchen table, the chandelier illuminating the map and the pages of notes. She read through the list of names that Jerry from the Kingdom had given to her, comparing it to the list Emma had given her from Hilltop, and hers from Alexandria. She scribbled a note down on one of the pages and picked up the drawing of Sanctuary Jesus had given her.

It had only been a day since the battle and she was still in a lot of pain. She wanted to lay in bed and nurse her wounds, but there was just too much to do.

“Hey,” Daryl called as he walked into the room, pulling his crossbow strap over his head.

“Hey,” she greeted, setting her things down.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Now?”

He nodded and she pushed herself to her feet. She shoved her notebook into her satchel along with a pen and pulled her jacket off the back of the chair before she followed him out of the house. As they walked out the door, Anna grabbed her stick sheathed in its new leather holster and looped it around her body.

It was dark as they made their way to the front gates, where they met Rick.

He pulled the gates open as she and Daryl climbed onto the bike.

“If you aren’t back by tomorrow evening,” Rick started.

“We’ll be back,” Anna assured.

Rick nodded as the bike roared to life and Daryl steered them out of Alexandria and down the street. Anna pressed her face into Daryl’s back, hiding from the whip of cool air as he picked up speed, turning them onto the highway.

She thought about the list of questions in her notebook and the risk they were all taking in getting the information. But it had to be done.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Anna’s fingers were numb. Daryl pulled the bike to the side of the road and shut it off as they climbed off. She breathed into her cupped hands, making a mental note to start wearing gloves.

“You good?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah,” Anna said as he walked over to her.

He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, breathing on them.

“It’s starting to get too cold,” Anna said, huddling closer to Daryl as he gently rubbed her hands between his. “We should scavenge for some jackets while we’re out.”

He nodded his agreement as he let go of her hands and went to move the bike off the road, hiding it behind some bushes. They started through the woods, moving quickly and quietly. They didn’t want to waste any time.

After some walking, they broke through the tree line and came upon the road leading into the city. Daryl led them through the buildings, passing an angel statue before darting behind some abandoned trucks. They peered up at the towering factory.

Anna had never seen it before. It seemed so oppressive; she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to live there. But the yard of walkers separating them from the factory, the limited ways in, assured her that it wasn’t about comfort. It was about defense.

A door opened and a thin figure stepped out, a crossbow in hand. There was a flash of flame and Anna could see the blond hair and the gnarled face before the flame died out. Dwight made his way down the steps.

“You got the list?” Daryl asked, pulling a bolt from his crossbow.

Anna nodded and pulled the notebook from her satchel, flipping to the page in question and tearing it out. She passed it to him and he rolled it around the bolt, securing it with a small rubber-band.

He knocked the bolt and aimed his crossbow. A moment later he fired. She watched as Dwight pulled the arrow from the tire Daryl had shot into, unraveling the note. He took a moment to read the list before he fished something out of his pocket.

After scribbling on the paper, Dwight rolled it around the bolt again and loaded it into his—Daryl’s—crossbow. He fired in their general direction, the bolt embedding itself into a plank beside them.

Daryl snatched the bolt and passed Anna the paper. She read through the outposts, lookouts, and supply caches. She looked up and nodded at Daryl, assuring him they had what they needed. She tucked the paper in her pocket and they started back the way they came.

* * *

“What if he’s lyin’?” Daryl asked as they moved through the trees, weapons ready.

The light filtered through the trees in the early morning as they followed some tracks for a deer.

“We’ll check out the locations before we send anyone in,” Anna said as she spotted a splash of light brown.

She raised her rifle and peered through the scope, spotting the deer.

“I got it,” she whispered.

Taking a breath, she steadied her rifle, and was about to pull the trigger when the deer looked up and ran.

“Shit,” she hissed, spotting the three walkers fumbling out of the brush. “I hate those fuckin’ things,” she muttered, lowering her rifle.

“How many?” Daryl asked.

“Three. They’re following our deer,” she grumbled as she started toward them, slinging her rifle behind her and pulling her stick from her back.

She heard Daryl huff as he followed after her. They dispatched the walkers with ease and checked the bodies for anything useful. One had a jacket that was in pretty good shape. Anna began to pull it off the walker.

“What are you doin’?” Daryl asked.

“This looks like it’ll fit Carl,” Anna explained, yanking the walker’s arm out of the sleeve.

Daryl cocked a brow at her.

“I’ll wash it before I give it to him,” Anna assured, tying the jacket to her satchel as she stood.

“Carl’s got a jacket,” Daryl commented as they continued to follow the deer’s trail.

“It’s too thin for northern winters,” Anna said. “It’s more of a Fall jacket, really.”

Daryl was quiet and she paused, turning to look at him.

“What?”

“I thought you were from South Carolina?” Daryl asked.

“I am,” Anna said, frowning at him. “Why?”

“How do you know what northern winters are like?” He asked.

“I was going to school in Cincinnati,” Anna said. “Spend four years in the north, you pick up a few things.”

“Huh,” Daryl said. “Why’d you never tell me about that?”

“You never asked,” Anna shrugged. “And it didn’t seem important.”

They started walking again and Anna began to think about everything else Daryl didn’t know about. They rarely talked about their lives before the apocalypse, having no interest in revisiting a life they’d never get back.

“I sucked at keeping down a job,” Anna said suddenly.

“What?”

“Six months as a museum guide was my longest job. I’d usually quit for one reason or another,” she elaborated. “I guess because it was never what I wanted to do.”

Daryl didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I was a mechanic once,” he said. “Before Merle came back and we started driftin’.”

Anna considered Daryl as she knew him. She could see him as a drifter, moving from town to town and doing whatever to make some money, staying in motels and eating at diners.

“Look at us,” Anna said, shaking her head. “What were we before all of this? What are we now?”

They broke through the trees again, coming up on the road about half a mile from the turnpike. Daryl crossed the road, headed for the woods. Anna went to follow when a breeze blew past and she paused.

She sniffed the air, and listened intently.

“You comin’?” Daryl asked and Anna put her hand up to quiet him.

Without a word, she started down the road toward the turnpike.

“Where are you goin’?” Daryl called after her.

She spotted the overpass and picked up her pace. Anna ducked behind the barrier as she made her way up the on ramp, peering over the cement and steel. Daryl came to crouch beside her.

They said nothing, breathing through their mouths so they didn’t have to smell the overwhelming stench of the herd. Anna looked up at the sun, determining the direction it was headed.

Slowly, a grin spread across her face.


	2. Chapter One

The TV blinked off and Emma stared at it from the couch, the words Global Pandemic burned into her retinas. She didn’t want to see anymore. Even though nearly half the city was under quarantine, city officials were already expanding the zone. Small riots were breaking out all over Chicago, some originating from protests over the way the quarantine was being handled. Once someone went into quarantine, they weren’t seen again—at least, that’s what people were saying.

Emma watched the news every morning, and every morning reported higher numbers in the Pandemic, larger quarantine zones, and ever more riots across the country. They grounded all air travel, and Atlanta Airport had almost immediately erupted into conflict.

Emma knew it was only a matter of time before they restricted travel even further. Unfortunately, there were still arrangements to be made before she could head back home. When this was all said and done, Emma wanted to be sure she had an apartment and a job to return to.

Slipknot’s “Duality” began playing from her phone and she snatched it up, checking the caller ID before answering. It was her mother, probably calling to tell Emma what she already knew.

“Hey,” Emma greeted.

“Hey sweetie, is everything okay? Are you okay?” Her mother asked, panic already hinting in her voice.

“I’m okay.”

“Tell her she needs to get out of the city as soon as possible,” Mark, her step-dad, said in the background.

Emma rolled her eyes, already exhausted with how this conversation was about to go. Her mother relayed what Mark said, and Emma assured her she was doing everything she could to leave. She was going to pay the landlord next month’s rent, and work had already extended her start time until things settled.

She was most disappointed about work, Emma said as the conversation shifted. She had just graduated college, and after landing a job at a small publishing company, had moved into a nice apartment in Chicago with the money she’d saved. Now she was leaving for who-knew-how-long.

“Okay, well, be safe. We love you, honey,” her mother said.

“Love you, too,” Emma said, hanging up the phone.

She set her cell on the coffee table beside her coffee mug which read “Poe me another cup” around a picture of Edward Allen Poe. Leaning back into the couch, she wiped her hand down her face and groaned.

_This pandemic is inconvenient,_ she thought bitterly.

* * *

The next day, Emma rushed around her apartment, gathering what she needed and shoving everything into her suitcase as neatly as possible. The news had just reported the suspension of all non-essential travel starting tomorrow and she’d heard from across the hall that Martial law was almost certainly going to be declared. She didn’t like to put much stock in speculation and rumors, but she liked taking risks even less.

Once she had everything that she thought was necessary, Emma zipped up her suitcase and grabbed her keys. She quickly dialed her mother and listened to the phone ring twice before it was answered.

“Emma! We just saw the news about Chicago—”

“I’m about to leave now. I just wanted to let you know,” Emma said, interrupting her mother.

“Good. Be careful, honey,” her mom said, sighing in relief.

“Is she leaving yet?” She heard Mark ask.

“She’s leaving,” her mother assured, her voice sounding farther from the phone as if she’d pulled it away from her face.

“Tell her to take back roads as much as she can, and use that map we bought her. Who knows how long she’ll have service?” Mark went on. “Damn kids always relying on their phones, it’ll be the death of ‘em.”

“Emma, did you hear that?” Her mother asked, returning to the phone.

“I did,” Emma said irritably. “The map is in my glove box. I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, honey. We love you.”

“I—”

The call disconnected before she could finish her sentence and Emma pulled the phone away from her face to frown at the screen.

_Call dropped. No service._

Emma furrowed her brow. A siren went off when suddenly the ground shook. She braced herself and looked around frantically for an explanation. She went to the window and spotted the black smoke a few blocks away.

She backed away from the window and turned, grabbing her suitcase and running for the door. Making sure to lock up her apartment, Emma forced her way through the crowded and confused hallway and down the few flights of stairs to the ground level.

Out on the street, sirens wailed past; police cars were rushing to the explosion. Emma figured ambulances and fire trucks weren’t far behind.

Emma went for her car, popping the trunk of the red Toyota Camry and throwing her suitcase within before slamming it shut. She couldn’t fathom the luck she had in finding a parking spot right in front of her building, but she had snagged it a few days ago and fed the meter to keep it until now. Emma went around to the driver’s side, opening the door and throwing her purse into the passenger's seat before she went to climb in.

She froze when something hard pressed against her back and a hand wrapped around her arm.

“I don’t want to hurt you, just give me the car,” came an out of breath male voice.

Emma swallowed hard, trying to think of some way to get out of this situation while keeping her car, but it was a fool’s errand.

“Can I get my stuff first?” She asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I’ll be takin’ that, too. Just get out of the way,” the man said, pulling her away from the vehicle.

She’d never been car-jacked before, and she was appalled at how calmly it was going. The man—a tall, pale man with a green beanie—held his hand out for her keys, his gun still aimed at her abdomen.

She dropped them into his hand and he climbed into her car. He slammed the door shut and started the car, pulling expertly out of her parking spot and away down the street in the opposite direction of the explosion.

“Shit,” she huffed.

Shouting caught her attention, and she looked down the street to see people filtering in around the corner. One threw something, and she watched as the object made an arch in the air before crashing through the front window of the café she liked. As fire spilled out of the window, several loud claps went off, something like a car backfiring rapidly and repeatedly.

Emma took a step back before turning and running in the opposite direction, following her car thief.

* * *

Emma huffed, leaning against the wall of an office building. She had been forced to take backroads and alleys trying to avoid the rapidly filling streets. It seemed like half the city was trying to escape, while the other half was busy trying to destroy itself. But now, she was utterly lost.

Having only been in Chicago for a month, she hadn’t exactly become an expert on its streets, and now she had no phone and no map to guide her way.

There was a groan behind her and she looked over her shoulder, prepared to make a run for it again only to see a figure standing, rubbage falling from his body. He stumbled toward her and into the light that was filtering into the alley from the street.

“This is the last thing I need to deal with,” she grumbled to herself as the drunk reached out to her.

Rather than allow him to come closer, she started off again. A few blocks down, Emma paused to catch her breath.

Not far off was a crowd of people. But they weren’t shouting and throwing things like she expected. They merely shambled through the streets. It was the smell and the groaning that threw her off.

Emma backed away, not wanting to alert the herd of people, only to find herself walking into someone. She turned to face them, instinctively wanting to apologize only for a pair of dead eyes to stare back at her.

She screamed as the woman grabbed her, her teeth snapping at Emma’s face.

“Get off me!” She demanded, attempting to push the woman away. “Let me go!”

“Ah!”

Emma stumbled back, tripping over her feet and falling to the ground as a man appeared, slamming a large piece of cement into the woman’s head. The two toppled to the ground and he continued to slam his weapon into the woman’s head until it was a bloody mess.

He panted, sitting up as he dropped the cement beside him. He looked to Emma.

“Are you all right?” He asked, getting to his feet.

“You—you killed her,” Emma said, dumb-founded.

“She was already dead,” he said.

“What?”

“Not a lot of time to explain. We need to go,” the man said, looking over Emma’s shoulder.

She followed his gaze to see that the crowd of people had shifted their attention to them and were now slowly approaching.

“Come on,” the man ordered, pulling Emma into the alley.

* * *

Emma sat beside Trevor, eating her share of the small groups meager breakfast. After he’d saved her, Trevor had led them out of his home city, where they met up with some of his friends. The four of them—Trevor, Freddy, Melissa, and Steven—agreed to let Emma join their merry group and travel to the safe zone in Virginia.

Martial law had been declared, but that hadn’t lasted long. The world had quickly fallen apart after the mass riot in Chicago, succumbing to the dead. That was three months ago. Now, they were sitting on the side of the road next to a red van they’d stolen, preparing to start their journey for the day. Despite everything, they were still headed to Virginia, and they were almost there.

As breakfast wrapped up, Trevor bumped Emma’s knee with his and they grinned at each other. She admired his dark eyes and hair brushed back from his face.

“It’s too early for the romantic crap,” Steven grumbled, tossing his granola bar wrapper over his shoulder as he stood.

“Sorry,” Trevor mumbled, but nonetheless, he kept his knee pressed against Emma’s.

The group picked up camp and Freddy, who had kept watch through the night, crawled into the back of the van to get some rest. Once everyone was buckled into their seats, Melissa steered them back onto the road. Steven sat in the front seat, reading the map and directing Melissa. With the man preoccupied, Trevor reached over and took Emma’s hand.

The ride was quiet for the most part; they only stopped to refill their gas tank and to scavenge for supplies. They’d gotten pretty good at their routine, watching each other's backs and taking out the dead. Emma had even gotten the hang of a gun, though the boys refused to take her hunting.

This often left her alone with Melissa who, with her black-belt in Karate, taught Emma some defensive moves. During these lessons, Melissa liked to say that they needed to be able to defend themselves when the law couldn’t.

Suddenly, the van jerked and the engine squealed. Melissa maneuvered them to the side of the road as they sputtered to a stop. She turned the ignition only for the engine to choke and whine at them. Then there was a pop and smoke began to spill out from the hood.

“Well, shit,” Steven grumbled, kicking his door open.

They all got out of the van and Freddy—resident mechanic—popped the hood. He waved the smoke from his face, coughing up a lung.

“It’s shot,” he said. “Won’t get this piece of shit moving again without a new engine.”

“Bertha,” Melissa bemoaned.

Steven laid the map out on the ground, crouching over it.

“It’s fine. We aren’t that far from the city,” Steven assured. “We can make the rest of the way on foot.”

“I still think going in there is suicide,” Freddy said.

“You guys don’t have to go. I can make it on my own,” Emma said in response.

It was a conversation they’d had every other day for the past few months, and the result was always the same.

“We promised to get you home, and that’s what we’re gonna do,” Steven said, folding up the map. “Now let’s grab our gear and go.”

* * *

The five made their way through the city and into Arlington, passing the cemetery and all the monuments, only dealing with the dead that got in their way. Finally, nearing the airport, Emma led them the rest of the way to her childhood home in a neighborhood positioned behind a Holiday Inn.

A few blocks into the neighborhood, Emma stopped at a red brick, two-story house. She stared up at it, her heart pounding. The front door was open and the car was gone.

“We’ll check it first,” Steven announced, checking his gun and nodding to Freddy and Trevor.

“Stay here with Melissa,” Trevor instructed.

Emma didn’t argue.

“It’s going to be okay,” Melissa said, wrapping her arm around Emma’s shoulders.

A few minutes passed before the boys returned, their faces impassive. Trevor approached and Emma looked to him, awaiting his report before she was willing to react.

“They aren’t here,” he said.

Emma nodded and started toward the house.

“Emma,” Trevor called and she looked to him. “There was… there was blood in the kitchen.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat but she turned and continued into the house. It was dusty, and the air itself felt dirty as she moved through the living room and into the kitchen. There was blood on the counter and more pooled on the floor. A bloody handprint smeared across the pictures stuck to the fridge.

On the floor in front of the fridge was her mother's cell phone. Emma picked it up and hit the power button, hoping it would turn on, but the screen continued to reflect her image back at her. Emma gripped her mother's phone tighter and made her way through the rest of the house in search of any clue as to where they went.

Blood on the floor didn’t mean they were dead. Maybe one of them was hurt and they’d gone to the hospital. Or maybe it was a stranger’s blood. Someone could have broken in.

There were no signs in the bathroom where Emma saw her reflection clearly for the first time since her apartment—her normally short, red hair was now at her shoulders and her cheeks more pronounced. She continued on. There weren’t any signs in the master bedroom either. She made her way to the spare room that used to belong to her before she moved. Emma settled on the floor in front of the guest bed, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared at her mother's phone.

A sob ripped itself out of her throat and her shoulders began to shake as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. She hugged herself as she cried, rocking gently back and forth to try and soothe the pain she felt in her chest.

“Emma?” Trevor called softly, pushing the bedroom door open.

Seeing the state of her, Trevor said nothing as he dropped down beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She leaned into him, allowing herself to cry into his shoulder until she had no more tears. Even then, he continued to hold her.

* * *

The group gathered around the kitchen table the next morning, eating and making a plan. Steven decided that South was the way to go, and everyone unanimously agreed. Everyone except Emma, who remained silent. They packed up what they needed, and Freddy hotwired a car. They were ready to leave when Emma finally spoke up.

“I’m not going,” she said.

“You can’t stay here,” Melissa argued. “It isn’t safe.”

“Emma,” Trevor implored.

“I can’t,” she said firmly. “I’m going to stay here as long as I can. In case they come back.”

“They’re probably dead,” Freddy said as if he were saying they’d just run out to get groceries.

“Freddy,” Melissa chastised.

“Emma, are you sure about this?” Steven asked, stepping forward.

“This is what I have to do,” Emma said, looking at first to Steven and then to Trevor.

She decided last night that she would stay. She couldn’t just leave without knowing for certain what had happened to her mom and Mark.

Steven nodded understandingly and patted her on the shoulder.

“Be safe,” he said, in that fatherly way he always seemed to have about him before he walked away.

Freddy, the least affectionate of the group, gave her a single nod. Emma returned it. They had never gotten close, but an understanding had formed between them that couldn’t really be compared to anything else she’d experienced.

Melissa pulled Emma into a hug, tears in her eyes.

“Remember everything I taught you,” she said, reaching into her back pocket.

She produced a small square, forcing it into Emma’s hands.

“And don’t forget us,” Melissa added, stepping away.

Emma looked at the photograph Melissa had taken of them with a Polaroid they’d found one day. She had convinced them to squeeze together into the frame and had to take a few before they got a good, clear picture.

Finally, Trevor stood in front of her, a forlorn look on his face.

“Is there any way I can convince you to come with us?” He asked.

Emma bowed her head. She had half-hoped Trevor would stay with her. But his question was all she needed to know that he wouldn’t.

“I have to stay,” Emma said, looking up at him.

He sighed but pulled her into him.

“I’ll miss you,” he muttered into her hair.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

Finally, they pulled apart and Steven, Melissa, Freddy, and Trevor loaded up in the green Nissan. She watched as they pulled onto the road and drove away, standing in the yard until they were gone.

* * *

It had been a month since Trevor and the others left for the South, and Emma had run out of houses in her neighborhood to scavenge. This left her with no other option but to venture outside of the safety of the suburb. She decided to start with the Holiday Inn.

She made her way across the street, quick so as not to attract any attention, and made her way to the parking garage and back entrance. There she found that the double glass doors had been shattered, giving her easy access into the building.

Emma stepped inside, glass crunching under her boots as she held her knife aloft; she didn’t bother with her empty gun. She moved through the lobby and found a little alcove filled with snacks and an assortment of travel sized toiletries. She stuffed the items in the duffel she’d taken from Mr. Heather’s house. With nothing more to take, Emma made her way through the halls, searching for an employee’s only sign.

Finally, she came across a cleaning cart and grabbed one of the black trash bags, filling it to almost bursting with soaps, shampoos and conditioners, and clean towels from the cart. She tied it closed and was prepared to sling it over her shoulder when a groan came from the nearby room.

Emma set her things on the ground and pushed the door open. Lying on the ground, half of its body obscured by the bed, was a corpse reaching out to her in hunger. She wondered why it hadn’t gotten up as she approached, but soon noticed the wheelchair pushed into the wall.

Grimacing at the creature, Emma knelt and stabbed her knife into its ear so that it would stop making that awful noise. She hated the groans and snarls. She hated everything about the monsters that roamed the streets, wanting nothing more than to eat.

She took a step back. What she hated most of all was how lonely the dead made the world feel.

Emma walked back out into the hall, gathered her bags, and started for the house without incident. But when she got there, the front door was wide open. Dropping her haul on the porch, Emma pulled her knife and cautiously entered the dwelling.

The sound of drawers and cabinets opening came from the kitchen and Emma followed the noise. It was clearly a human. She pulled her gun, despite the lack of bullets, and came around the corner, aiming at the man's back.

“Turn around, slowly,” Emma instructed.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the man said, putting his hands up.

“I said turn around,” Emma snapped.

He turned slowly and she put on the hardest face she could muster. She needed him to believe she’d pull the trigger. He was clean, well kept, and gorgeous.

“Hi,” he said, smiling uneasily.

“Who are you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Well, uh… my friends call me Jesus,” he said, laughing nervously.

“Damn,” she said before she could stop herself, “and I was hoping this wasn’t the Second Coming.”

“My real name is Paul,” Jesus chuckled, lowering his hands and taking a step forward.

“Stay where you are,” she demanded, focusing her aim again, and he paused.

“You’re not gonna shoot me,” he said. “You would’ve done it by now. Let’s just talk. What’s your name?”

She said nothing for a moment, wondering if she should trust him. He clearly belonged somewhere. Somewhere safe. Clean. Maybe there were people there, too.

“Emma,” she said, lowering the gun.

“Well, Emma, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, grinning at her.


	3. Chapter Two

Anna groaned as she fell into the gray bean-bag chair. Carl settled beside her, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He pulled down two controllers and passed her one before he turned on the TV and Nintendo 64. On her other side, Judith played on the floor with some stuffed animals.

“So, what are we playing?” Anna asked.

“F-Zero X,” Carl said.

“Okie dokie,” Anna nodded, adjusting the wire between her legs.

“Okie dokie?”

“I don’t know,” Anna shrugged, laughing.

Carl shook his head, smirking as he turned back to the television. The ring of an electric guitar called their attention back, _PUSH START_ flashing different colors across the screen. Carl selected the _GP Race_ and the _FZERO Jack Cup_ , navigating them through selecting their ‘machines’ and characters.

“Sorry this took so long, man,” Anna sighed as the game counted down for the race.

“Don’t worry about it,” Carl said. “You’ve got a lot going on. It’s pretty cool.”

“What’s pretty cool?” Anna asked as she experimented with the controls until she figured out how to get her machine to turn without getting stuck on the edges of the track.

“You’re like a General or something,” Carl said, his eyes glued to the screen.

Anna scoffed, not taking her eyes off her machine.

“I’m not a General.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Carl teased. “You came up with a plan, you’re organizing our forces. Dad and the others—they’re following your lead.”

“I’m offering suggestions,” Anna said, shaking her head.

“They’re listening.”

Anna didn’t say anything, and Carl crossed the finish line in third place. A few seconds later, she crossed dead last.

“Another?” Carl asked, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Or do you want to try a different game?”

“I think I’m getting the hang of the controls,” Anna huffed.

From the floor, Judith made a babbling noise akin to _Carl_. Carl laughed and started a new race.

“We’re gonna end the Saviors,” Carl said, the game counting down again.

Anna hummed in response, her brows knitting together.

"All of them?" She asked.

"The ones that get in our way. Isn't that the plan?"

"The plan is to make them surrender,” Anna said.

"They all deserve to die. For following him."

“I followed the Governor—for a little while. And Fort Benning,” she said. “Did I deserve to die?”

“That’s different,” Carl insisted. “You didn’t stay with them.”

“You're right; I left. But only when I saw there was another choice. What if some of the Saviors were given that same chance and they chose to abandon Negan and join us instead?” she asked. “What then?”

“They killed people,” Carl snapped.

“We killed people,” Anna countered. “And you can’t say every one of the people we killed deserved it.”

She saw Carl’s jaw clench and noticed the stubble growing there. Distantly, she heard a distorted explosion from the television.

“You’re dead,” Carl said.

Anna shook her head, brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she shifted her legs to cross her ankles over each other.

“Man, I suck at this game,” Anna huffed.

“Yeah, you do.”

She pouted at him, but saw the good-natured grin on his face and smiled.

“Again?”

Anna pursed her lips. They had three days to complete their preparations and put her plan into action. Three days before they would find out if it was going to work at all. She didn’t think it would hurt to play a few more games.

* * *

Anna peered through the scope of her rifle. She only saw one Savior leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette, but she made no move. She wanted to make sure he was alone. After another minute, she looked at the watch Rick had given her. The Militia was on their way and she needed to get her snipers organized.

With a sigh, Anna readjusted her rifle and leveled the crosshairs with the man’s head. She let out a slow breath and squeezed back on the trigger, the silencer muffling the sound. Shouldering the rifle, Anna grabbed her stick and satchel, heading toward the fallen Savior.

She looked both ways before crossing the street and knelt beside the man, patting him down for his weapons and his walkie before checking the rusted car parked a few feet from the door. Checking her watch again, Anna put the items in her bag as she stood and started down the road, keeping close to the buildings until she made it to the tree line.

It didn’t take her long to make it to the overpass where Carol, Tara, Morgan, and Daryl were gathered beside a dark green Tahoe and Daryl’s bike.

Anna jogged the rest of the way up to them, keeping her breathing steady as she approached.

“How’d it go?” Carol asked.

“According to plan. The others?” Anna asked.

“Taken care of,” Daryl assured.

Anna looked to Morgan and he nodded.

“Here we go,” Tara said, a Twizzler hanging out of her mouth as she stared at her watch.

“Ten..., nine..., eight..., seven…,”

The five of them stood together, watching the lower end of the overpass as it turned behind the trees.

“Six..., five..., four...,” Tara continued.

They had to get the timing just right. If they weren’t where they needed to be when they needed to be there, it could ruin everything.

“Three..., two..., one....”

The road remained empty.

“Shit,” Tara hissed, yanking the Twizzler from her mouth.

“Are you sure you timed it right?” Anna asked, looking to her own watch.

“No, there,” Daryl said, pointing at the turn.

“Okay. Close enough,” Tara shrugged, heading off.

“All right, let’s go,” Daryl said as he mounted his bike.

“Hey,” she called, and he paused. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said.

She pressed her lips together. Time. They had so little of it, but she figured they could spare at least ten seconds as she leaned forward and kissed him.

“What was that for?” He asked.

”’Cause I can,” she said before jogging off the way she’d come.

She heard his engine roar to life and he blew past just before she hopped over the barrier and started through the woods.

Distantly, she heard a booming explosion, but she didn’t stop. There were places to be.

* * *

* * *

Isaac sat at the dusty wooden table, drumming his fingers on his knees. To his right were Regina and Gavin, and Gregory sat to his left at the end of the table, nervously holding a glass of room-temperature water. Simon was across from Isaac, his eyes intent on Gregory. Rounding out the group were Eugene, who sat quietly at Simon’s left, and Dwight, who was next to Negan.

“Well, I—uh…,” Gregory stammered, and Isaac pressed his lips together. “I’d just like to start by saying thank you for having me here today.”

_Politicians,_ Isaac thought bitterly as he rolled his eyes.

“Negan, let me lay this down straight for you,” Gregory went on, shifting the glass. “I know how it is, negotiating the slippery, steep terrain of managing resources and the populations, and the big scary _U_. But you might know, it’s called the unknown,” he said with a wink and a nod as he glanced around at the lieutenants.

_Buffoon_. His face didn’t give away just how irritated he was.

Isaac was disgusted with Gregory. The Politician. The Buffoon. The spineless waste of breath.

When no one said anything, Gregory continued.

“Listen, I—I mean it when I say it—Negan, I don’t like killing people any more than you do,” he said, tapping his hand on the table to emphasize each word.

Isaac scoffed.

“I like killing people,” Negan said simply.

“Oh. Well, I—” Gregory floundered.

“I say it’s about killing the right people,” Negan interrupted. “So, you kill the right people at the right time…,” he set Lucille in his lap and clasped his hands together, “everything falls into place. Everybody’s happy. Well,” he grinned, “some people more than others. But you kill one,” he said, holding up a finger. “And you could be saving hundreds more. And that is what we are all about. We save people.”

“That—that’s why you’re called the—the Saviors? Oh,” Gregory said.

Dwight pushed himself out of his chair.

“Gonna go grab a smoke,” he announced as he headed for the door.

“Now?” Negan asked, and Dwight paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t want to hear this?”

“Don’t need to,” Dwight assured. “Tell me where to go and what to do, I’ll make it happen.”

Negan chuckled, waving him off. Dwight walked out and closed the door behind him.

“Where were we, Gregory?” Negan asked. “Oh, that’s right. You were telling me that you don’t like to kill people, and I was saying that I do—under the right circumstances.”

“Well, this—this situation that we—we find ourselves in, this—this conflict. I can stop it before it even gets started,” Gregory insisted, and Isaac bit his tongue. “I mean here it is. I go to my people and I—I tell them if—if you’re joining with this—this misled crusade, you’re no longer citizens of the Hilltop. You’re out on your asses.”

Gregory hummed questioningly, glancing around the table, like a child searching for approval from the big kids.

“You’re still their guy?” Negan asked. “They still listen to you, Gregory? Can you exile people?”

“The Hilltop is my house,” Gregory said, gesturing to himself. “I’m still the guy. I’ve always been the guy.”

“If you’re still the guy—if, indeed you have always been the guy, then why the hell didn’t you know about the Widow leading an army of your people straight up my ass in Alexandria?” Negan asked.

Panic was clear on Gregory’s face as Negan leaned forward.

“You know what I think, Gregory? I think you’re playing both sides. I think you are a thin-dicked politician threading the needle with your thin, thin dick,” Negan said. “Now, is listening to you the right way to go, or is it the right place and time for something else?”

Gregory audibly swallowed, his whole body beginning to shake.

“No—no,” he stuttered. “Not trying to do that. No, not—I was—wasn’t aware of things until they were already in—in motion. Allegiance, right there, the whole thing. I just—I—I didn’t know until I—I knew, you know?” Gregory said, practically incoherent with fear.

_Pathetic_.

“Gregory, hey,” Simon soothed, holding Gregory’s wrist. “I believe you. Now make Negan believe you,” he said, humming expectantly.

After a moment, Gregory cleared his throat and declared with a false confidence, “The Hilltop is mine. I let a fox into my hen house. She and her people took advantage of my generous nature. I see that now, and I will fix it.”

Negan leaned back in his chair, eyeing Gregory but seeming cautiously appeased.

“If we go in with the right stage picture, a thick and veiny show of force surrounding Gregory when he lays down the law, I think things go back to copacetic,” Simon said, mimicking Negan’s posture as Gregory began to sip at his water. “If they don’t, we take a flyer on the place and kill everyone there.

Gregory choked.

“Unfortunate play,” Simon sighed, “but the other communities will get the message, and we achieve equilibrium. Plan A. Plan B—”

_BANG!_

Isaac and the rest of the room jumped at Negan slamming Lucille against the table.

“People are a resource,” Negan said, his voice a low growl.

_BANG!_

He slammed Lucille again.

“Money on the table,” he said, louder as he rose from his seat.

_BANG!_

He continued to slam Lucille against the table with each word, his voice growing to a roar.

“People are the foundation of what we are doing here!”

Isaac felt every muscle in his body tense as Negan leaned over the table, glaring at Simon. He did not envy the man.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Negan asked. “Are you confused about who we are? Are you confused about who is in charge? Are we backsliding, Simon?” A wicked grin spread across Negan’s face. “Please, tell me we’re not backsliding.”

“We’re not backsliding,” Simon replied in a clipped, nervous voice. “This is a pronounced event and a fragile moment.”

“Hell, yes, it is,” Negan cheered, standing straight. “We need to win it all. ‘Plan A’ is taking Rick, the Widow, and King Assface alive and making them dead in a very, very public and instructive way. We kill the right people in the wrongest way possible and we make them all watch!”

The moment he finished speaking, four rhythmic gunshots came from outside. Negan went to the window and everyone stood as Dwight walked in, Gary close behind him.

“Should we get our people out there?” Simon asked. “Line ‘em up, light ‘em up?”

“No,” Negan said after a moment. “They got some sort of hillbilly armor. We’d just be wasting metal on metal. And the RPG is stashed at the cache, so…, let’s have ourselves a little chat,” he grinned. “Simon, bring your new little friend. We may need him to say a few words.”

“Gregory, you’re on deck,” Simon said.

“Gary, put three and three in the windows. Tell them to stay the hell down till we need them,” Negan ordered, stepping over to and opening the door to outside. “Well, shit!” he called. “I’m sorry. I was in a meeting.”

The lieutenants filed out after him, Eugene hesitating for a moment before joining them. But Isaac paused at the door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the folded photograph he kept there. He smirked at Anna, curled up and peaceful in an armchair with a book in her lap and a messy bun atop her head. He smoothed his thumb gently across her face,

Gregory cleared his throat, reminding Isaac that he was there. He looked up at the older man, narrowing his eyes but still smirking.

He folded the photograph and tucked it back into his pocket before finally stepping out onto the platform.

* * *

* * *

Slinking and weaving her way through the buildings, Anna made it to the rendezvous point without being seen. She ducked behind a truck as she spotted the two men and a woman just ahead of her, each holding a sniper-rifle as they hid behind a building.

Each one had a cloth wrapped around their arms, just above their elbows; one white, one green, and one red. Anna looked to her own elbow and saw the white cloth tied around her bicep—a stark contrast to her black jacket.

She looked back to the group and let out a low whistle. They turned, guns up as she came out from around the truck, and they lowered their weapons.

“We were wondering when you were gonna show up,” Jason said, the green fabric wrapped around his arm indicating he was from Hilltop.

“What took so long?” Donny asked, the white strip around his arm reminding her he was from Alexandria.

“Doesn’t matter,” Claudia said, the red on her arm showing that she was from the Kingdom. “Now that you’re here, where do you want us?”

“Right,” Anna nodded. She crouched in front of them, pulling the walkies from her bag and passing them around. “We’ll be on channel three,” she said as she turned her walkie on and hooked it to her belt before pulling out the map of the Sanctuary. “Donny, I want you here in the water tower. Jason, here in this red building. Claudia, here in this yellow building. I’ll be here, across from the main gate. Radio when you’re in position,” she instructed, slinging her things over her shoulder as she stood. “And remember, we aren’t here to kill anyone.”

The three gave a solemn nod before heading to their positions. Anna pulled her hair back, tying it with the hair-tie she kept around her wrist. Even tied up, her hair reached her shoulder blades. Her scalp throbbed with the memory of Isaac yanking her around by her hair. It was too long.

There was a snarl just behind her. Shaking her head, Anna dropped her stuff to the ground and took up her stick. No point in wasting bullets on a stray walker. She quickly dispatched it with two swift hits to get it to the ground before she rammed the end of her stick into its eye socket.

She took a bandanna from her pocket and wiped the blood and brain matter from the end of her stick before she replaced it on her back. She grabbed her rifle and satchel and started to her position.

Anna cleared the building quickly, taking out the few walkers that had been lingering on the first floor. The second floor was empty, and she set up a chair at the window with the best view. She set her satchel on the ground and pulled out the extra ammo she had brought, lining the boxes up on the window sill. She pulled back on the bolt and loaded the gun, peering through the scope.

She checked her watch. She’d made it just in time. When she looked back through her scope, the cars were already pulling up, steel plates bolted to the sides as they parked strategically to block line of sight. Even the RV had been armored.

Everyone climbed out of their vehicles silently, moving seamlessly between the cars until they were where they needed to be. Anna saw Rick look to Maggie; she raised her hand, and everyone raised their guns to the sky. Maggie brought her hand down in one swift motion and they fired one, two, three, four shots before lowering their weapons.

Anna brought her sights up to watch the door. A minute felt like eternity as they waited, but the door swung open and Negan stepped out, an amused grin on his face. He sauntered up to the railing of the platform followed by Simon, then Dwight, who she assumed was Gavin and Regina, and Eugene.

She could barely hear a word Negan was saying from this distance, but she certainly had a clear shot of him. She took a steadying breath and kept her finger off the trigger. They weren’t here to kill him. Not yet.

Movement caught her attention just behind Negan, and she saw Isaac step into view, a condescending smirk on his face.

Anna felt her muscles turn to cement as she watched him through her scope. She almost didn’t notice when her crosshairs shifted to pinpoint the middle of his face, or the fact that her finger was trembling over the trigger.

It felt like she was sinking below the surface of a tumultuous sea and she couldn’t find her way out. She wanted to kill him, as if that would somehow make things better. It would be so easy to just squeeze. She’d feel a little discomfort in her shoulder—nothing she wasn’t used to. But it would be over.

Anna shook her head, forcing herself to move her finger off the trigger. If she killed Isaac now, her plan would be worthless.

“We aren’t here to kill anyone,” she reminded herself.

She took deep breaths, repeating the phrase in her head. All of this was about Negan. Isaac would come later. She could just make out Rick shouting, “The Saviors inside!” and she knew he was offering them the deal. To surrender was to survive.

Anna watched as Negan gestured to his lieutenants. She could only imagine him asking what his fate would be in all of this. But he’d already been told. There was no going back for him.

After a moment, Negan seemed to make a few statements before Simon walked into the doorway and gestured for someone to step out. Hesitantly, Gregory appeared.

Anna ground her teeth.

_That good for nothing piece of human garbage_ , she thought bitterly as Negan patted Gregory on the shoulder.

“The Hilltop stands with Negan and the Saviors,” Gregory declared just loud enough that Anna could hear. “Any residents of the Hilltop who take up arms or who supports this ultimatum against the Sanctuary or any of the Saviors, for that matter—they will no longer be welcome in the colony.”

Gregory looked to Negan, who seemed to urge him to continue.

“Their families will be thrown out and will be left to fend for themselves,” Gregory shouted.

Negan patted him on the shoulder again and stepped away.

“Go home now. Or you won’t have a home to go back to,” Gregory warned.

Anna’s lip curled in disgust, but there was silence from Hilltop, and for a moment she thought they were actually going to side with Gregory.

“The Hilltop stands with Maggie!” Anna heard Jesus call.

She watched as Simon forced Gregory to look at him, jabbing his finger into Gregory’s chest as he backed him up before shoving him unceremoniously down the stairs. Anna hissed at the pain Gregory no doubt felt.

_BOOM!_

A smirk played at Anna’s lips as she watched Negan and his lieutenants look off in the distance, confusion on their faces. There were some words exchanged that she couldn’t hear—she assumed Rick was offering the lieutenants one more chance. They were getting close.

Anna pulled her walkie off her belt and held it to her face.

“Snipers, don’t fire. Save your ammo,” she instructed.

Just as she lowered the walkie, gunfire erupted from behind the vehicles and shattered glass rained down on the Saviors as they darted inside. All except Negan, who fell from the platform.

Horns began to blare as everyone climbed back into their vehicles. But Anna’s focus was on Negan as he crawled along the ground toward cover.

The crack of Lucille against skull filled her ears, and Glenn choking out _“I’ll find you,”_ as he stood unsteadily on his knees, blood pouring down his face and his left eye sticking out of its socket.

Anna ground her teeth and leveled Negan in her sights, ready to squeeze back on the trigger when a barrage of bullets came down on the man; Negan managed to hide behind the cement platform.

“Shit,” she hissed, pulling away from her rifle.

She shook her head, reminding herself to stick to the plan. Everything would work out fine if they just stuck to the plan.

Anna caught movement in her peripheral and saw that the RV was moving forward, its armored front taking down the fence with ease. Gabriel crawled through the back window and ran for another barricade to take cover. A few seconds later, as the RV neared the building, the bombs within exploded.

The armored cars drove away as the smoke cleared. But someone continued to fire on the shell of what was left of the RV. Anna swung her scope down to see that it was Rick. Gabriel pulled on his arm, trying to get him to leave.

“Damn it,” she snapped.

Finally, Rick ceased fire and turned to Gabriel before the priest headed off, shooting at the windows. Rick grabbed something from a truck—a camera—and flashed a picture of the wreckage laid out before the Sanctuary.

Anna shook her head as the man finally left. She brought her sights up to look at the debris Rick had been firing at, knowing that he was aiming for Negan. But she couldn’t see any sign of him. Furrowing her brow, Anna searched the courtyard, only to see Gabriel hiding behind a barricade with Gregory, taking heavy gunfire from the windows.

Hissing a curse, Anna glanced to her right and saw the herd trickling in. They were out of time, and Gabriel was stuck.

And Gregory was making a run for the last of the armored cars, abandoning the man who had probably saved his life.

“That son of a bitch.”

She aimed and fired, her bullet catching the armor of the door as Gregory slammed it shut and tore out of the courtyard. As he disappeared through the herd, Anna turned her attention back to Gabriel, still trapped behind the barricade, the herd closing in around him. One walker came too close to him and Anna fired, a bullet embedding itself into the walker’s head before it fell to the ground.

Gabriel looked in her general direction and gave a single nod before scrambling to his feet and running for the annexes. He attempted to force his way into one, but was surrounded before he could get the door open.

Anna took down a few of the walkers, allowing him to get to another annex. He managed to get up the stairs and rip the door open and shut himself inside. With Gabriel out of direct danger, Anna lowered her rifle. Now she just needed to find a way to get him out.

“Shit.”


	4. Chapter Three

Anna laid out the large paper on the ground, flattening out the folds. She’d taken Jesus’s map of Sanctuary and scaled it up to fit more detail. With a pen, she glanced through the wood planks in the window, determining where the annexes and debris were, before drawing them out on the map. She took a bullet from her pocket and placed it in the rectangle that represented the annex Gabriel had taken refuge in.

She chewed on the dead skin of her bottom lip, studying the map, as if the lines on the paper would somehow reveal the perfect plan to her. Truth was, she didn’t have many options. The only thing she could think of was ordering the snipers to her position and clearing a path for Gabriel, but she had no way to communicate that plan to him. Even if they could pull it off, he’d lead the herd away from the Sanctuary—if they didn’t deplete the herd numbers too much.

Taking the walkie from her belt, Anna brought it to her face.

“Snipers, report. How’s it lookin’?”

\-- _“East is good. Got some looky-loos in the windows, but nobody’s trying anything,”_ \-- Donny called back.

\-- _” We’re good on the West side,”_ \-- Jason reported.

\-- _” Clear on the North side,”_ \-- Claudia added.

“Anybody tries anything, fire on them—do not kill,” Anna said.

She tapped the antenna against her chin, still surveying the map.

\-- _” How are we going to get Gabriel out of there?”_ \-- Claudia asked.

Anna said nothing for a moment and sighed heavily.

\-- _“We have a job to do,”_ \-- Jason said. -- _“Gabriel is just gonna have to hold on until the Saviors surrender.”_ \--

\-- _” That could be days,”_ \-- Claudia argued.

“We’ll figure something out. For now, focus on the task at hand,” Anna said into the walkie before clipping it to her belt.

Anna gathered her bullet and map, folding the paper into a rectangle the size of her hand and tucking it back into her satchel. She sat back in the chair and readied her rifle, peering through the scope.

As she watched the herd writhing in the courtyard, her mind wandered to the last herd she’d seen—the one that had gotten into Alexandria. She thought of how Rick, Michonne, and Jessie had run into the infirmary wearing bedsheets and walker guts.

She pulled the walkie from her belt again.

“I have an idea.”

* * *

* * *

Daryl and Rick moved through the office building, weapons at the ready as they came at a T in the hallway.

“You signal if they’re already inside. We’ll be there,” Rick ordered, sending the three men who had come with them down the hall leading to the front of the building.

“Come on. Let’s find them guns,” Daryl called quietly, leading the way forward.

They checked room after room as they made their way through the first floor. Rick went around the corner as Daryl checked the last room, finding it void of any guns. Frustrated, he went to join Rick, who quickly aimed his rifle at him before relaxing.

“Ain’t on this floor,” Daryl said.

“Only option is up,” Rick sighed.

“High ground. Good cover,” Daryl agreed.

“Yeah, I’d put ‘em up there, too,” Rick nodded, tucking some papers into his breast pocket.

“Stairs,” Daryl said, going toward the door.

He rattled the knob, but the door didn’t budge. It was locked down. He reeled back and kicked at the door, trying to force it open.

“Don’t waste the energy,” Rick said, grabbing Daryl’s shoulder.

Daryl huffed and stepped away from the doors.

“Looks like we’re takin’ the elevator,” Rick said, a light note to his tone.

The two went to the elevator doors and pulled them apart, revealing the empty shaft. Daryl leaned in, looking down first to see that the elevator car was settled on the level below them, then up to see the nineteen floors above them.

“You ready?” Rick asked, slinging his rifle around to his back.

Daryl hummed in response, pulling his crossbow strap over his head and pushing it to his back. They began their climb, their grunts the only sound echoing in the elevator shaft. They didn’t want to expend their energy on talking.

* * *

* * *

Isaac leaned back in his chair at the end of the table, his back to the door as he continued picking the small shards of glass from his hair. He grimaced as he let the little pieces fall to the ground.

“We have to assume Negan’s dead,” Regina said from the other side of Gavin.

“I’m Negan,” Simon responded immediately. “And as I understand it, everyone in this room is. Now, I realize there’s a lot of stress in the air, but just to clarify, are you saying you’re someone else, Regina?”

“No,” Regina said calmly.

Isaac, still picking at his hair, gave a low hum.

“Good,” Simon said.

Regina turned to face the rest of the room, “We should send the fence crew out. Grab a few others, we get forty workers, standing back to back. We get them out with pipes. They clear a path, just enough for a small team—”

“Inadequate,” Eugene said, staring at the table like he was going to be sick.

“What?” Regina snapped.

“Inadequate,” Isaac echoed, slower so that Regina understood.

She shot him a glare.

“The numbers you suggest aren’t adequate,” Eugene elaborated. “Given the current SRO density of the herd surrounding us, forty workers armed with melee weapons in the formation you propose would be overcome, closed in on, and macked upon within a few minutes.”

“Yeah. That’s right,” Regina said, as if it should have been obvious. “We use the workers as a distraction to get a small team past the herd. They can warn the outposts and then come back with the Fat Lady.”

“Add to the approach’s slim chances of success, it’s likely the play would lead to widespread unrest, pittin’ the workers against the soldiers when we’re runnin’ out of food and fuel, upsettin’ our already precarious apple cart,” Eugene said.

“Maybe,” Regina started, leaning forward, “all we need to do is put you out there, Eugene. Maybe it would motivate the answer man to come up with a solution.”

“Regina, he’s right,” Dwight said. “The workers have the numbers, and we need to keep them on our side.”

“We need to keep them in line,” Simon corrected.

“In line, on our side—either way, we can’t risk a coup,” Isaac said, brushing his hair back. “And we don’t want to waste any bullets.”

“Even if we get a few of ours out and somehow clear the crowd,” Gavin said, “they have snipers all around the building. So right now, let’s deal with the other part. Someone in here,” he said, waving a finger in the air, “made everything out there happen. We’re having our little crisis-management meeting about the rebellion in Alexandria, us three outpost heads, and that’s when they pile this crap on us? That’s when they cut us off? Come on.” He sighed. “They knows all and sees all. Sometimes it doesn’t take a gun. The right kind of rat… can kill plenty of people with just some talk.”

“But it’s not gonna be us,” Dwight insisted, “and it doesn’t have to be the workers.”

“Dwight, you got to face reality here,” Simon said.

“No, Simon,” Dwight snapped. “We keep what’s ours, and we don’t give up a damn thing. We get out. I don’t want to hear backbiting or pissin’ or moanin’ from you two,” he said, standing over the table to point out Gavin and Regina. “You got a problem with that, come at me,” he hummed expectantly. “You can’t lead the Saviors out of here, I will,” Dwight warned, pointing at Simon before taking his seat.

Isaac raised his eyebrows and shook his head, almost in awe of Dwight’s proclamation as Simon glared down at him. He watched as Simon moved around the table, much like a predator, and leaned between Eugene and Dwight.

“Yes, my boy,” he said quietly, clapping Dwight on the forearm. “Yes! And…” he said, pointing in Dwight’s face before he turned to Eugene. “We’re gonna find that subhuman coward that did this to us, and we’re gonna kill him very slowly in front of everyone here over the course of a few very long days.”

Simon looked around the room, nodding.

“Good meeting, people,” he said. “Now let’s make today the best today it can be.”

Simon grinned at them before turning and leaving the room. Isaac sighed and pushed up from his chair, following the man out.

He walked behind Simon a few paces, staring at the back of his round, balding head. It was endlessly irritating to Isaac that he was forced to follow Simon around like some lost puppy, waiting to be told what to do. But he didn’t have many options. It was better than following Gavin or Regina. At least with Simon he had gotten closer to Negan.

Now that Negan was out of the picture, however temporary, Isaac was left to deal with the instability of Simon. While the man could be cunning and calculating, Simon let his emotions direct him. Isaac couldn’t quite fathom why Negan chose him to be his right hand. But that didn’t quite matter anymore.

* * *

* * *

Daryl pulled himself up, glad that the elevator doors were open when they made it up the twenty floors. He groaned, his muscles straining, but he managed to get his left knee on the ledge and crawled the rest of the way onto the floor. He reached down and pulled Rick up the rest of the way.

Quickly, he pulled his crossbow off his back as Rick did the same with his rifle and they turned the corner, each facing either side of the corridor, but saw that they were alone.

“Last floor. Guns gotta be up here,” Rick said, his breathing heavy.

“He said they’d be here,” Daryl huffed.

“Everything else he passed you and Anna is checking out,” Rick assured.

“That guy’s a piece of shit,” Daryl snapped.

“Those guys get to the Sanctuary; they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit. We’ll go faster if we split up. I find the M2s, you find ‘em, we use ‘em,” Rick said. “Hit the courtyard right then and there.”

“End this quick,” Daryl nodded before heading off down the hall.

If only they could end the whole thing quick. Anna’s plan was smart, but it wasn’t fast enough. It kept them waiting on the Saviors for resolution.

Each open door he passed, he checked, finding the rooms empty until he reached the last one at the end of the hall. He kicked the door open, aiming his crossbow around. There was no one in the cubicle room, but there was a closed door on the other side.

Quietly, he closed the door and moved down the left side of the room, keeping his bow aimed as he checked around the partitions. Once he reached the closed door, he pulled it open and found nothing.

He grimaced. The room itself was no more than a small walk-in closet, but an odor emitted from it that made the hairs on his arms stand up.

Daryl looked to the floor, searching for the source of the stench, when his eyes came upon a paper plate with a familiar looking sandwich. Along the wall, near the floor, was a thin pipe, attached to which were a pair of handcuffs, precariously dangling over a dried patch of vomit.

His stomach churned and it felt as though a weight had been dropped on his chest.

No. Anna’s plan wasn’t enough.

* * *

* * *

\-- _” Are you insane? You’ve got to know that’s crazy,”_ \-- Jason said over the walkie as Anna cut a hole through the top of the tarp she’d found.

“I am very aware,” Anna said quickly into the walkie. “But I’ve seen it work.”

She pulled the tarp over her head, pushing her head through the hole, testing the length of the tarp on her body. It came down to about mid-calf.

\-- _” Are you sure about this?”_ \-- Claudia asked.

“As sure as I’ll ever be,” Anna muttered to herself before bringing the walkie back to her face. “Once I’m ready, I’ll turn my walkie off so I won’t be able to hear you while I’m out there.”

\-- _” We’ll cover you, of course,”_ \-- Donny assured.

“I appreciate that. Keep an eye on the doors while I get my outfit together,” Anna said before clipping the walkie onto her belt.

She grabbed her stick, leaving her rifle by the window, and headed downstairs and outside. It took her a few minutes of wandering around the back of her building before she found a walker stumbling toward the Sanctuary.

Anna let out a low whistle, calling its attention. It started toward her, dragging its feet as it snarled and reached for her. She jabbed the end of her stick into its chest, pushing it back before whipping her stick across its face, dropping it to the ground. Quickly, she pulled her knife and stabbed it through the ear for good measure.

She took a step back and surveyed her handiwork, using her foot to roll the walker onto its back. Distantly, she could hear the snarls of the herd as it pawed at the Sanctuary.

With a grimace, Anna knelt beside the walker and drove her knife into the right side of its stomach, pulling it to the left to open up its belly. Blood, guts, and whatever it had for lunch spilled out.

“Fuck,” she groaned, gagging on the stench.

Shaking her head, Anna pulled her hair tight in its pony-tail and began smearing the blood and guts over her tarp.

“Gabriel owes me some communion wine after this.”

* * *

* * *

Daryl stalked down the hall, glancing through the open rooms he’d already checked as if they would miraculously sprout guns. He’d gone through the entirety of the south side of the building and come up empty-handed, and he could feel the anger in his chest.

_Piece of shit lied to us,_ he thought.

This was probably the most important outpost, and it had been for nothing. They’d tell Anna Dwight’s intel was crap and they would have to come up with a new plan that would delay them even further. Daryl didn’t think he could wait any longer than he already had to.

He rounded the corner and entered the north side of the building where Rick had been searching, seeing that Rick hadn’t had any more luck than he had as he passed empty room after empty room.

Toward the end of the hall, Daryl paused, staring into another office room, where a man lay face-down, motionless on the floor.

Daryl raised his crossbow and cautiously walked into the room. There had clearly been a struggle.

“We never made it to Birmingham,” came a distantly familiar voice. “They didn’t.”

Daryl followed it.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Rick’s voice said.

“Really, Rick?” The man asked, his tone short.

“I am,” Rick insisted. “I lost people, too. Lori, Shane, Andrea… Glenn,” he listed off.

Daryl peered around the corner just long enough to see Rick being held at gunpoint by a burly dark-haired man.

“Negan killed him. Forced him to his knees. Bashed his head in right in front of me. In front of his pregnant wife,” he spat.

Daryl pressed his head into the wall, willing the pain to go away.

“He had a wife?” The man asked, and Daryl suddenly recalled where he’d heard the voice before.

He remembered the man with his wife and his two young kids from the quarry. They’d left for Birmingham when Rick had decided to take the group to the CDC.

“Not before. During. He met her,” Rick explained.

“In this?” Morales asked.

“Yeah. In this. She’s the Widow,” Rick confirmed. “Are you Negan, too?” He asked after a moment.

Daryl was willing to give Rick a chance to sway Morales to their side. He remembered him as a reasonable person.

“I lost my family,” Morales started. “I lost my mind. I was in some… tow trailer, sleeping myself to death. Waiting to become nothing. And the Saviors—they found me. They thought I was worth a damn. Worth bringing back with ‘em. So, yeah. Yeah, I’m Negan. To make it this far, this long, I had to be. I had to be somethin’. Just like you.”

Daryl clenched his jaw.

“We’re not the same,” Rick said.

“How’s that?” Morales scoffed.

“Well, look at you,” Rick huffed.

“Look at me? Look at us, Rick,” Morales corrected. “Look at us. We’re two assholes who’ll do whatever we have to just to keep going. And the only difference is I’m the one holding the gun. That doesn’t make me any worse than you, Rick—that just makes me luckier. ‘Cause let’s face it, if it wasn’t me, if it was you holding the gun, I’d be brains out on the floor right now.”

“You don’t know that,” Rick said.

“And you do?” Morales asked. “Huh?”

“I know I wouldn’t want to,” Rick implored.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” Morales huffed. “Is that the best you can do?”

“I’d—I’d at least try to find another way,” Rick insisted.

“Yeah? Why?” Morales challenged. “‘Cause we knew each other for a couple days back at the start?”

“Look, I know—I—I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t just—”

“You want to know what I think?” Morales interrupted. “I think you can talk all you want. You can say all the words. Lori, Shane, Andrea, Glenn... They’re all dead, and somewhere along the way, Officer Friendly died right along with ‘em. Just like I did, with _them_. That’s what I know, Rick.”

Daryl clicked his teeth together. Morales was right, and that’s all he needed to swing around and fire a bolt into the turning man’s forehead. He was vaguely aware of Rick telling him to wait.

Morales fell to the ground and Daryl looked down on him.

“You good?” He asked, glancing briefly at Rick.

He stepped around Morales and bent forward, grabbing his bolt and yanking it from Morales’s forehead.

“That—T-that was—”

“I know who it was,” Daryl said. “It don’t matter. Not one little bit. You find them guns?” He asked, changing the subject.

Rick stared at him for a moment, his brows knitted together.

“They aren’t here,” he finally said.

“What?”

Rick dropped to the ground and gathered his guns and the walkie on Morales’s belt.

“He called the Saviors back from the courtyard. We gotta get out before—”

A door thudded open in the distance, cutting him off.

“They’re here,” Rick said.

Daryl snatched up Morales’s gun and the two took off down the hall, hoping they’d get out before the Saviors found them, but as they turned the corner toward the elevator shaft, gunfire erupted from the bottom as they jumped out of the way and back the way they’d come before Saviors appeared down the hall and fired on them.

Daryl careened into a room and fired back, ducking back inside whenever the Saviors returned fire until his gun clicked empty. He pulled out his revolver and fired four booming shots, two of which managed to hit two of the Saviors.

Leaning into the doorframe, Daryl looked to Rick to see that he was dealing with his own side of troubles. He checked his revolver; he had five bullets left. With a frustrated sigh, Daryl swung around and fired the last of his shots at the Saviors, only managing to hit one of the four Saviors darting to either side of the hall.

His gun clicked and he fell back, patting his pockets for any extra ammunition, only to come up with nothing.

“Hey!” He called, looking to Rick.

Rick, who was pressed against the wall holding his rifle, looked up at him.

“I’m out,” Daryl informed breathlessly.

Rick looked around, when his eyes landed on something, and Daryl could hear the Saviors advancing.

“Hey!” Rick said, holding up three fingers when Daryl looked at him.

Daryl nodded, and Rick lowered one finger just before firing at the wall. White smoke spilled into the hall and Daryl ran for Rick, somehow lucky enough not to get shot by the blind gunfire of the Saviors.

Once he was beside Rick, the Saviors ran into the smoke and the two grabbed for them. Daryl punched one in the gut before he could fight back and tossed him down the elevator shaft, listening to his screams of terror as he fell with an odd satisfaction as he went to grab for the next one.

Rifle fire from further down the hall came and the rest of the Saviors collapsed to the ground.

“Teams of four, sweep the offices,” Aaron ordered.

“Aaron,” Rick called.

“Rick,” he responded.

“We’re by the elevator,” he informed, if only to not be mistaken for Saviors and shot.

* * *

* * *

Anna stood at the corner of her building, looking at the herd in front of her. All she had to do was walk slowly so that the walkers didn’t sense something wrong. If they even had senses. She suddenly wished she had Milton’s journals to reference before she potentially got herself killed.

She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly before she stepped forward.

\-- _” Are you seeing this?”_ \-- Jason called over the walkie.

“Shit,” she hissed, scrambling for the walkie as three of the walkers turned toward her.

She slipped behind the corner as the three walkers started toward her.

\-- _” They’re—”_ \-- Anna shut the walkie off as the three corpses rounded the corner.

She held her stick in front of her as they neared, seeming unable to reconcile the sound and scent. They reached out for her, their fingers curling toward her. She smacked their hands away with her stick before whipping it back around and across the closest walker’s face—a bulky, heavy male—and jabbing the end of it into the next walker’s chest—a thin, wiry female.

For the third walker—an average sized male—she had enough time to ram her stick through its eye socket, but as it fell, it yanked her stick out of her hands.

The first walker was already reaching for her again and she stumbled back, tripping over her feet. Her back hit the ground hard, breath leaving her as the first walker fell on top of her. It snarled and snapped at her face, gripping her arms as she tried to hold it away from her.

She gasped at the pressure on her toes and managed to look over the walker's shoulder enough to see that the second walker was attempting to gnaw through her right boot.

With as much strength as she could muster, she kicked her foot, knocking the walker back. Turning her head further away from the first walker, she kicked blindly, attempting to strike the second walker in the face with her heel.

“Get off,” she huffed, pushing on the heavy walker atop her, her arms shaking with the effort.

She kicked out again, this time making contact with the second walker's face, but there wasn’t enough force to kill it. Swinging her leg over the first walker, she used the momentum to roll them over until she was straddling the corpse.

As quickly as she could, she ripped her knife from its sheath and stabbed it through the walker’s forehead.

Pushing herself uneasily to her feet, Anna pulled the knife out of the heavy walker’s forehead. She yelped as her left arm was yanked back, the second walker having blindly grabbed her sleeve; the knife fell from her hand. The walker’s teeth were mere inches from her arm. Without thought, Anna swung around with her other hand, punching the walker hard in the jaw and knocking it to the side when it lost the grip it had on her arm.

Anna lunged forward and snatched the knife off the ground before she whirled around—just in time to stab the final corpse through the ear. She tore the knife out and stumbled backwards, bracing herself against her knees as the walker fell to the ground with a thud.

Her chest heaved and ached as she struggled to catch her breath, her hand still coiled tightly around the knife. She straightened, bringing her hands up behind her head to try and open up her airways. She stared up at the beautiful blue sky, a few fluffy, white clouds lazily drifting by.

Barely able to feel her arms, Anna reached down and pulled the walkie from her belt. She clicked it on and brought it to her face.

“What were you saying?” She asked breathlessly.

\-- _“Gabriel got out. Kind of,”_ \-- Claudia said. -- _” Are you all right?”_ \--

“I’m fine. What do you mean kind of?” Anna pushed.

\-- _“He and Negan... they got out of the trailer, but they made it inside Sanctuary,”_ \-- Jason explained.

Anna sighed. Gabriel had made it out of the trailer—and so had Negan. Now the priest had a whole different problem, only this time, Anna had no way to help him.

“Shit.”


	5. Chapter Four

Daryl and Rick’s group cleared the courtyard of the Saviors turned walkers, and ensured those who hadn’t turned yet never did. The wounded were loaded up and taken away in one truck, while the dead were loaded up in another. Rick took pictures of all the damage before heading back inside the office building.

“Guns aren’t here,” Scott said waving everyone toward the cars. “We gotta go right now, people. They pulled away the herd, but we aren’t taking any chances.”

Daryl watched as everyone climbed into their vehicles and pulled out of the courtyard, headed back to their respective communities. Aaron sat off by himself. Scott had told him what had happened to Eric. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, or what to say to Aaron, if anything.

The cry of a baby interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see Rick walking toward them, carrying a bundle in his arms.

“She was inside?” Tobin asked.

“She was,” Rick nodded. “I have a—I have a stop to make, and Daryl’s got his bike,” he said, stopping in front of Tobin. “Maybe she can go back with you or Scott.”

“She can go with me,” Aaron offered, his voice shaky. “I can, uh, t-take her to the Hilltop. She’ll be safe there.”

“Aaron,” Rick started, walking toward him. “You sure?”

“Eric and I were gonna go up…” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “We were gonna go there after and update Maggie. So, that’s what I’m gonna do.” He nodded, his lips pressed together as he held back tears. “Please. I have to.”

Rick nodded and gently passed the baby to Aaron.

“Her name’s Gracie,” Rick said as they looked down on the infant.

Rick gestured for everyone to roll out, and he and Daryl headed for the front of the building where Daryl had parked his bike near a jeep.

“See you back home,” Rick called, loading up his stuff in the jeep.

“Sure you wanna talk to them assholes alone?” Daryl asked.

Rick had decided this would be their best option, and it was yet another part of the plan Daryl didn’t like.

“Yeah,” Rick assured. “That’s how it gets done.”

“All right,” Daryl relented. “You’re gone too long, I’m gonna come lookin’ for you.”

“That’s the plan,” Rick chuckled the moment before there was a single gunshot.

Daryl dropped, taking cover behind the cement platform of a fancy street light and pulled his gun, thankful he’d grabbed some more ammo from one of the others before they left.

He looked back to see that Rick had made it behind the jeep and was signaling him to wait. Daryl peered over the cement platform, aiming his gun at the tree he knew the Savior was hiding behind.

“Hey,” Rick called. “Hey! You’re alone. You got to be. There’s not enough room for two of you behind that tree. And there’s a herd comin’. I’m just sayin’. Hey, I tell you what… we’ll make you a deal. You drop your gun and come on out—you tell us what we need to know. You do that, you can take a car. You go. You live,” Rick offered. “How ‘bout it?”

“Why should I trust you?” Came the Savior’s shaky reply.

“‘Cause I’m giving you my word. There’s not a lot that’s worth much these days, but a man’s word… that’s got to mean somethin’, right?”

“O-okay,” the Savior stuttered.

Daryl rose from where he crouched and moved around the platform as a young man with his empty hands up limped out from behind the tree. Daryl kept his gun aimed.

“W-what do you wanna know?” He asked.

“You ever have any M2 Browning .50-caliber guns here?” Rick asked.

“We did. For a while,” the man said.

“What happened to ‘em?” Daryl demanded.

“They got sent to another outpost yesterday,” he said quickly, cowering.

“Which one?” Rick asked.

“It was Gavin’s—it’s west of here,” he said.

Rick said nothing and Daryl lowered his gun. The man slowly straightened, lowering his hands. Daryl wondered if this man had anything to do with the handcuffs and vomit in that closet on the top floor.

“Can I, uh—Can… Can I go?” He asked, unsure.

Daryl raised his gun, firing a single shot into his head. The man fell to the ground with a thud and turned to Rick.

“Which team’s at Gavin’s?” Daryl asked, heading for his bike.

* * *

* * *

Isaac wiped the sweat from the back of his neck, rubbing his palm clean on his jeans. They had decided it would be best to turn off the power to conserve energy. Though it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, of course, Isaac certainly didn’t like it.

He glanced around the room, considering the dynamic of the people present. Everyone was under a lot of stress and waiting for someone else to come up with a plan of action. Isaac knew that if he wanted to get anywhere with this rare opportunity, it would have to be his plan. The only problem was that he didn’t have one. Not yet. Whoever had concocted this scheme of surrounding the Sanctuary with the dead and snipers was smart.

But he was smarter.

“Now, we were due for a delivery today from my place,” Gavin said, calling Isaac’s attention back to the meeting. “Spotters haven’t seen anything. Yeah, the transport truck would’ve turned around, seeing the state of things, but nothing’s come up any of the roads. Chem outpost doesn’t miss deliveries,” he insisted. “Something happened, that Rick guy happened. Our outposts are getting hit while—”

The door swung open and Laura walked in, her breathing heavy and white tank top damp with sweat. The nights may have been getting colder, but the days were still warm, especially inside the Sanctuary.

“What is it?” Simon asked, straightening.

“They’re coming up the stairs,” Laura said.

“Walkers?” Eugene asked, his voice trembling.

Laura looked to him and glared, leaning over the table, “The workers,” she clarified impatiently. “They said we’d have to shoot them.”

Muffled talking came from the other side of the door, calling all of their attention. The lieutenants jumped to their feet. Simon pulled the door open and the low chatter subsided.

“Workers are designated to stay on the ground level,” Simon said as he stepped out.

Isaac stepped out of the room behind Gavin to find the workers crowding the hallway on either side. He let the others file out after him before carefully placing himself back in front of the door, prepared to take cover if things went bad.

“Specifically, their activity is constrained to the factory floor and the outdoor gardens,” Simon elaborated.

“It’s too hot down there,” one tall man said. “And we sure as hell ain’t goin’ outside. When you gonna fix the power?”

“It doesn’t need fixing,” Simon said, shaking his hand. “We’re conserving fuel. It’s a shared sacrifice,” he hummed, looking between the crowds.

“Oh, you’re sharing now,” the same man said.

“Oh, that sort of tone is not gonna work for me—” Simon sighed before stepping toward the man.

Dwight jumped forward, pushing Simon back.

“Everyone, everyone!” Dwight called. “Look, we’re gonna get through this. Okay? We just need some more time.”

“We need some more water!” Another man said. “There are young people, old people.”

“We’re rationing that out, too,” Simon said evenly.

“We work, you protect us,” a woman said. “That was the deal. That’s how it was supposed to work.”

There was a collective “yeah” from the workers.

“We need water!” Someone repeated.

“Do you have a plan for getting us out?” Another asked.

“You heard the man,” Gavin snapped. “You all need to get back to the factory floor.”

“Where’s Negan?”

There was silence.

“Is he dead?”

“Answer the question.”

No one had an answer.

“Everyone has to return to the factory floor now!” Simon shouted.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the woman said firmly, pushing through the crowd.

“I need to correct you on that point,” Simon said, his voice dangerously low.

Isaac watched as he stepped forward, then his eyes caught movement.

“Gun!” Isaac shouted, pulling his gun and taking a step back into the conference room.

Two guns went off in quick succession, and a woman screamed as the armed worker fell to Regina’s dead shot.

“I am Negan,” Regina declared, her gun still aimed into the crowd. “Anyone else want a bullet? Anyone?”

Distantly, a high-pitched whistle came from behind the crowd, growing louder as the workers turned. Everyone kneeled as the whistling continued and a gore-covered Negan came around the corner and chuckled. Beside him was a man, similarly covered, staring confused at the scene before him.

“Ah, Regina,” Negan said as the man copied the others. “Now, why’d you have to go and do that?”

Isaac glanced at the worried look on Regina’s face as she bowed her head.

“I am guessing that a lot of you fine folks thought I was dead, chewed up, never to be crapped out again. Well, here’s a little refresher on who the hell I am,” he grinned. “I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nutsack is made of steel. I am not dying until I am damn good and ready. Now,” he smiled, “if you’ll all excuse me, I am in deep need of a sandwich, a shower, and some of that, uh, wilting lion orchid deep-tissue shit that Frankie learned in San Francisco. Hell, I might do it all at once. But after that, we have some serious business to attend to.” He raised Lucille and pointed at Simon. “Like talking to my right-hand man. You see, we got to figure out how all this could’ve happened like it happened. And then… we’re gonna get back to doing what we have always done. We will save people.”

“Thank you, Negan,” some woman called. “Thank God for you.”

Negan’s smile grew and he looked to the man he’d arrived with.

“And that is why I am here,” Negan said. “Gentlemen, gently take him to number 2,” he ordered. “Gently,” he repeated.

Two guards walked forward and took the man on either side, leading him toward the cells as Negan walked off and everyone stood.

Isaac clenched his jaw, holstering his gun as he watched them disappear.

* * *

* * *

Anna sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from her forehead before leaning back into her rifle and peering through the scope. The Saviors had yet to make a move against the herd, and for that she was grateful, but she was starting to get bored and tired.

Most of the day had passed with her sitting and watching, and she could still feel the bruises from her earlier fight. All she wanted was a hot meal, a shower, and some sleep. She glanced down at her watch; it was almost time for the sniper’s relief to arrive.

She reached into her satchel and pulled a half-eaten granola bar out. Pulling back the wrapper, she took a bite and set it on the window sill, chewing slowly as she returned to her watch position.

A floorboard creaked quietly behind her, and Anna stood and swung around, aiming her rifle at the intruder only to find Morgan standing there, hands raised in surrender and his stick slung across his back.

Anna huffed, lowering her rifle as she relaxed her stance.

“You scared me,” she said. “You’re early. Did everything at the satellite outpost go okay?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, nodding but not looking at her.

“Morgan?” She asked curiously.

He pressed his lips together.

“We lost some people—took some hostages,” he finally said. “Jesus and Tara took them back to the Hilltop.”

“Hostages?” Anna asked, raising a brow.

They hadn’t planned for hostages.

“Yeah,” Morgan affirmed.

Anna nodded, shifting on her feet before passing him the rifle and gathering her things. She slung her satchel and stick across her body and picked up her granola bar. She folded the wrapper over the bar as tightly as she could before tucking it into her pocket for later.

As she unclipped the walkie from her belt, she realized that this was the first time she’d been alone with Morgan since he’d discontinued her training. After relaying to the others that Morgan was taking over for her, she held the walkie out to him as he went to the chair. He accepted it, laying it on the windowsill as he settled into position.

She started toward the stairs when she paused and sighed.

“What do you think we should do with them? The hostages?” She asked.

He didn’t answer and she turned to face him.

“The plan is to make them surrender, but what do we do with them after that?” She pushed.

“We do what we have to,” Morgan said, his whole body tense.

Anna bit her cheek. She’d been grappling with this issue for some time.

“Earlier, when the others were here and Rick was offering them a chance to surrender, there was a man with Negan,” Anna began. “I knew him near the beginning. I wanted to kill him. I could have killed him—he was in my sights.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” she agreed.

“Then I think you already know what you want,” Morgan said.

Anna furrowed her brow. Finally, she turned away and started down the stairs and out of the building. She snuck her way through the city, careful to avoid any stray walkers that had yet to join the herd around Sanctuary, until she reached the woods and started for Alexandria.

After a few hours, Anna came upon the road where she had killed that Savior. She spotted the rusted car and walked to it. She leaned her stick against the car and climbed onto the trunk and sat cross-legged, pulling out the granola bar from her pocket and stuffing the last of it into her mouth.

She chewed deliberately as she stared at the corpse she’d left on the ground. People were going to die during this war—Saviors, Alexandrians, Hilltoppers, and Kingdomers. What mattered was what happened after the war. They couldn’t expect the Saviors to surrender if they were just going to line them up and execute them. And what kind of people would that make them?

Anna scrunched up her face as she swallowed the granola bar.

It would make them no better than the Saviors, no better than the Governor, no better than Fort Benning and the Colonel. They had to be better, or else what future were they fighting for?

But what would that mean for Isaac?

Anna shook her head, pulling her notebook and a pen from her satchel. She clicked the pen open, flipping to a blank page toward the back.

_The Sanctuary's still surrounded;_ she wrote. _They're trapped and cut off from their supplies. The lookouts are all around the compound. They open a door, we fire. But if they open a door—I think they’d have bigger problems. Every hour that goes by, they become weaker. It’s only a matter of time before they surrender._

Her hand stilled, and she wondered if she should write any more. She looked at the corpse again. With a huff, Anna decided there was nothing more to say for now, and she wrote the note two more times before tearing the page into separate pieces and folding them.

Hopping off the trunk, Anna grabbed her stick and tucked the notebook and pen back into her satchel. She started down the road. She walked a few miles before she spotted the wheelbarrow filled with junk on the shoulder. At the top of the pile was a white and black microwave. She knew Rick would be passing this way soon, but she didn’t have the time to wait.

She popped it open and found two papers within. The first was from Maggie, confirming what Morgan had told her and informing them that she had yet to decide what to do with the prisoners. The second was from Carol, relaying the loss they’d suffered at the Chem outpost. Anna’s heart constricted. It had been taken, but at what cost?

Anna worked her jaw and folded the papers, placing them back inside the microwave before setting one of her notes with them. She shut the appliance and began her walk again. She glanced up at the sky, noting the dull hue. It was getting late; she wouldn’t make it back before nightfall, and she still had two more notes to deliver.

* * *

* * *

Daryl leaned against the pillar and stared off down the street. Anna hadn’t returned to Alexandria yet, and he didn’t intend to wait around for her. He heard the front door open. He tapped his fingers against the pillar and bowed his head before looking up to see Tara approaching.

“Hey,” she greeted. “You just get back?”

He pushed himself off the pillar and stepped forward.

“Yeah. I was lookin’ for you,” he explained.

“I was looking for you, too,” she said, her hands in her jacket pockets as she took a breath. “I wanted to tell you that you were right when you didn’t kill Dwight. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without him.”

Daryl said nothing, waiting for the ‘but’.

“The thing is, I know what you said. But after this, I’m gonna kill him. I want it to be me,” Tara determined.

Daryl hummed.

“Maybe it could be you and me both,” he suggested. “And maybe we don’t got to wait so long.”

* * *

* * *

Isaac slunk down the dark hall. Not even the sun was awake as he moved silently toward the infirmary. He was certain Dr. Carson 2.0 was still asleep as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The man from before, Gabriel as he’d heard, was lying in the bed, drenched in sweat and shaking. He seemed so pathetic, wrapped up as he was. Isaac hovered over him, his face blank as he stared at the man. He had come here for answers, and he had every intention of getting them.

He cleared his throat, just loud enough for Gabriel to stir and slowly open his eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Isaac said, painting concern across his face. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Wa—water, please,” Gabriel croaked out.

Isaac nodded, spotting the glass of water left on the bedside table. He picked it up and held it carefully over Gabriel’s lips, helping him take a small drink before setting it back on the table.

“You came to see how I was?” Gabriel asked, his voice a fraction clearer. “Why?”

“We aren’t monsters,” Isaac said, smiling. “It would behoove us to make sure you survive in our care.”

“And why is that?” Gabriel pushed, pulling the blanket further up his body.

“Negan only wants Rick, the Widow, and the King dead—everyone else just needs to surrender. They won’t do that if they think we’re just going to kill them.”

“So, I’m meant to be an example,” Gabriel muttered.

“A rather harsh way to put it, but yes,” Isaac agreed. “You’ve put us in a rather harsh position.”

“We had to,” Gabriel insisted half-heartedly. “You won’t surrender, otherwise.”

“I’ve got to hand it to you, surrounding the Sanctuary with corpses? Smart play,” Isaac praised. “Trap us inside, cut us off from our supplies.” He shook his head.

Of course, it was the best play. Least amount of effort for the greatest effect. Isaac had already noticed a certain questioning of leadership spreading among the workers and soldiers. Something he could play off of.

“A smart plan crafted by a smart woman,” Gabriel said, pulling him back to the conversation. “We’re lucky to have Anna on our side.”

“Anna?” Isaac asked.

His Annie was behind all of this? He couldn’t quite believe it.

“She underestimates herself,” Gabriel said before falling into a fit of coughs.

Isaac took a discreet step back, keeping the disgust off his face. Once Gabriel’s cough died away, he reached out for the glass of water. Isaac stepped forward and helped him drink again.

“Is she some kind of General?” Isaac asked.

“She’d say no if you asked her,” Gabriel said weakly, slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Get some rest Gabe,” Isaac said, feigning concern.

Gabriel nodded and relaxed into his pillow, quickly falling asleep. Isaac set the glass back on the bedside table and started out of the room. The sun was starting to rise and Dr. Carson would be back soon. But he had all the answers he needed.


	6. Chapter Five

Anna shot up, pawing at her eyes to tear the cloth away, only to find nothing there. Her chest heaved as she opened her eyes and stared around the car. She knew she was going to react this way when she woke up, but she still wanted to puke.

She shifted in the back seat so that she sat normally and focused on her breathing. Her fingers twitched and her skin tingled.

Anna hadn’t wanted to sleep in the car, but it was her safest option after the sun went down and she was too tired to keep on her feet. She needed sleep and safety; she couldn’t get hung up on the panic.

After what felt like hours, the sun finally began to rise over the horizon and filter through the trees. She pulled her jacket closer around her as a cool breeze came through the crack in the window, stirring the air within the cab of the car. It was probably Fall—maybe early in the season with the afternoons still being so warm.

Pulling her satchel into her lap, Anna dug around for the other granola bar she had packed and her book. She ripped open the wrapper and started in on her breakfast as she flipped through the pages of _The Art of War_.

Before long, Anna finished off her granola bar and shut her book, tucking both it and the wrapper into her satchel. She climbed out of the car, turning back only to get her stick. She pushed the door shut and walked away, wanting to leave the memories behind as quickly as possible.

A rustle caught her attention and she paused, readying her stick before darting behind a tree. She peered around it, expecting to see a walker when she spotted a familiar brown hat.

“The hell?” She muttered to herself, stepping out from behind the tree. “Carl, what the hell are you doing out here?”

Carl jumped and pulled his gun at her sudden appearance, only to relax when he saw that it was her. She noted how he was wearing the jacket she had scavenged for him.

“I’m—uh…,” he trailed off.

“Don’t lie to me,” Anna warned, and a guilty look flashed across his face.

“I’m looking for someone,” he said.

“Who?” Anna asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know who he is,” Carl admitted. “But he isn’t a Savior,” he insisted. “I ran into him at a gas station. Dad scared him off.”

“How do you know he’s not a Savior?” Anna asked skeptically.

“Because, I know,” Carl said firmly. “He didn’t know anything about what’s been going on. He’s just some guy.”

“And why are you so interested in finding _some guy_?” She pushed.

Carl pressed his lips together and exhaled heavily through his nose, before reaching into the pocket and pulling out a Ziploc bag with a can of sardines and a small water bottle.

“I wanted to give him some rations and…, maybe bring him back,” he said, holding the items out. “After I ask him the questions,” he added quickly.

“Carl—”

“I have to do this, Anna,” he said, cutting her off. “He deserves a chance—like you said. And because there has to be something after this is all over.”

She watched him for a moment, considering the determination on his face. Finally, she nodded.

“All right,” she said, starting in the direction Carl had been walking. “But if I think he’s trouble, we’re not bringing him back with us.”

“What if he follows us?” Carl asked.

Anna stopped and turned to him.

“We’ll do what we have to do,” she said, echoing Morgan.

Carl clenched his jaw, but ultimately nodded.

* * *

* * *

Isaac settled in his chair, sipping on a glass of water and drumming his fingers on the arm rest. He stared at the picture of Anna resting on the coffee table in front of him. She seemed so calm and focused.

He took another sip and leaned forward, setting the glass on the table before he picked up the photo. It was odd to see how much she had changed from when he had first met her. She had been weak, soft, easily subdued. But now? Something happened between then and now and he was curious as to what. He wondered if Gabriel or Eugene knew, if they could give him some more answers as to the person she’d become.

He realized, however, that her focus seemed to be on Negan. Isaac, it seemed, had been put on the back-burner for the time being, and he was perfectly fine with that. If she somehow managed to take out Negan, there would be a power vacuum—one that would need to be filled. Unfortunately, Simon was lined up to take over. That just wouldn’t do.

Isaac leaned back in his chair. He had work to do with Simon.

* * *

* * *

“You think it’s him?” Anna asked.

“It’s gotta be,” Carl said.

They peered through the trees, watching a walker reaching for a plastic bag hanging from a tree. It was impaled by a sharpened branch and stuck in place. A lanky, scruffy man carefully approached the walker, stabbing it through the back of its head.

Carl stepped forward.

“Hey,” he called, and the man froze, staring at them like a frightened deer. “It was my dad,” Carl said, his hands raised with the bag of rations in one. “They—they were warning shots above your head. He wasn’t shooting at you,” he continued, walking forward slowly and cautiously.

Anna followed behind him, keeping one hand ready to grab for her gun.

“I’m Carl. This is Anna,” he introduced.

The man stepped around the walker hesitantly, gripping his knife as he looked around for any more people that they may have brought with them.

“Siddiq,” he said.

“Food and water,” Carl said, holding out the bag.

“Why?” Siddiq asked.

“I guess you—you were talking about something your mom said… about helping people,” Carl began. “My mom told me that you got to do what’s right. It’s hard to know what that is sometimes, but sometimes it’s not.”

Anna blinked in surprise. Carl never talked about his mom.

Carl tossed the bag toward Siddiq, the rations landing with a thud a few feet away from the man. Siddiq stepped toward the bag, his feet dragging and eyes darting between Carl and Anna before falling to the ground.

He ripped the bag open and went for the water first, drinking greedily. Like he hadn’t had water in days. When he brought the bottle away from his lips, he panted for air and looked around as if he’d just woken up from a dream.

“Thanks,” he said, bowing his head.

“Glad I found you,” Carl said.

“You were looking for me?” Siddiq asked, getting to his feet as he tucked the sardines into his pocket.

“Yeah, I—I scavenged the sardines, other stuff,” Carl explained. “Me and Anna, we’re in a community.”

Siddiq’s eyes widened, and Anna thought she saw a spark of hope.

“I’m gonna ask you a few questions,” Carl said. “I need you to answer honestly, okay?”

“Okay,” Siddiq agreed.

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carl started. “I know it’s hard to keep track—”

“Two hundred and thirty-seven,” Siddiq said, exhaustion clear on his face.

“Really?” Carl asked.

“Give or take a couple,” Siddiq clarified, looking back at the walker stuck in his trap.

“How many people have you killed?” Carl went on.

Siddiq swallowed hard.

“One,” he said, a sort of tired sadness washing over him.

“Why?”

“The dead tried to kill him, but…” he shook his head, “they didn’t.”

Anna nodded silently, pressing her lips together.

“You’re making walker traps,” Carl said, changing the subject. “Is that how you killed so many?”

“It’s—it’s only part of it,” Siddiq said. “My mom thought—or hoped—that killing them would… free their souls.”

Anna glanced at the walker behind him. Milton had thought something similar. He’d gone on at length in his journals that there was still something of who they were left behind. But she also remembered Jenner; according to him, nothing was left.

She wished it were otherwise, but she agreed with Jenner.

“You know? Maybe—maybe she was right,” Siddiq said.

“Doesn’t that just make it harder to survive?” Anna asked.

“I—I don’t know,” he said, looking away for a moment before looking back at them. “I… But you gotta—you gotta honor your parents, right?”

“If I was honoring my dad, we wouldn’t be talking right now,” Carl laughed.

“And we definitely wouldn’t bring him back with us,” Anna added.

Carl looked back at her questioningly and Anna nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. Carl smiled at her before turning back to Siddiq, who stared between them with relief.

* * *

* * *

Emma walked down the line, eyeing the prisoners in her peripheral as she approached Jesus, her hand on the gun strapped to her hip. She was dead on her feet, having stayed up all night with the others, guarding the Saviors. It felt better than just leaving them.

On the other side of the wall, she could hear construction. It had been going throughout the night. Though she wondered what they were building, she couldn’t bring herself to check; she was afraid that it would be gallows like Gregory had suggested.

“Jesus,” Emma called, and he turned to face her.

Before she could say more, there was a loud bang, and she flinched.

“Still not worried?” One of the Saviors asked, looking up at them.

Emma was struck by how relaxed he seemed, as if he was prepared to accept whatever waited for him on the other side of the wall.

Jesus shifted, leading Emma a few feet away from the others.

“Anna’s plan was for the Saviors to surrender. What are we going to do if Maggie…?” She trailed off, unable to even finish the thought.

“I don’t think Anna intended for them to be executed after all of this,” Jesus agreed. “As for what we’ll do…” He shook his head helplessly.

Emma didn’t just think Anna wasn’t intending for them to be killed—she knew it for a fact. She hadn’t known the other woman very long, but she knew her well enough to be certain that she wanted to give these people the opportunity to change. Anna was a good person, despite what she sometimes seemed to think.

The gate creaked open, calling their attention, and Enid came out.

“Maggie says to bring them in,” the teen said after a moment's hesitation.

Emma and Jesus looked to each other with mirrored concern. Jesus nodded for the other guards to get the Saviors on their feet and herd them inside. Emma walked beside Jesus through the gates. Her eyes landed on what seemed to be a cage hastily built with enough room to house all of the prisoners comfortably. No gallows in sight.

She looked to Maggie, who held a rifle on her shoulder.

“Get them in,” Maggie instructed.

Jesus nodded and stood beside the cage door, gesturing for the Saviors to usher themselves in.

“Come on. Two at a time,” Jesus said, relief on his face.

“Starting now, we’ll keep the prisoners here,” Maggie announced. “We’ll feed ‘em, we won’t mistreat them. But we won’t stand for anything less than total cooperation,” she said, the last part more of a warning to the Saviors.

“Uh… uh, Margaret, all—all due respect,” Gregory began. “Uh, I’m just straight-shooting here.”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“You can’t let people we don’t trust run around inside our walls,” Gregory said, eyes wide.

“You’re right, Gregory,” Maggie said calmly. “In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me yesterday. You see, I grew up on a farm. I know all about sheep and wolves.”

At that, Kal and Eduardo stepped forward and took Gregory by either arm.

“What are you doing?” Gregory asked. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, Gregory,” Kal said.

“Let go of me,” Gregory ordered. “No. Kal, are you serious? Eduardo? Wait!” He begged, struggling against the men as they led him toward the cage. “This—this can’t—wait—”

“Calm down,” Eduardo said.

“No, don’t tell me to calm down,” Gregory snapped. “I am not gonna go in there. You can’t. Maggie! Look, just—no, wait, stop! Just for a minute.”

“Calm down,” Eduardo repeated.

“No, please, no!” Gregory cried, finally ripping himself away from the two.

He immediately started toward Emma, reaching out to her.

“Help me,” he pleaded as she took a step back. “No,” he said when Kal and Eduardo got hold of him again.

Gregory yanked his arms free again and stumbled forward, his head colliding with the wood frame of the cage before he collapsed to the ground, holding his forehead.

“Oh, God,” Gregory muttered. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything,” he whined.

Kal and Eduardo took him by the arms again and dragged him into the cage as he sobbed.

Emma couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the man as he curled up on the ground, his shoulders shaking—after all, he had given her a place to live. But his cowardice made him a bad leader and a threat to the community.

Sudden movement caught her eye and she reached for her pistol, but Maggie stepped forward and rammed the butt of her rifle into a long-haired Savior’s forehead, knocking him to the ground before he could grab Dianne’s gun.

He grunted, checking his face for damage.

“Oh, honey,” he said, brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re gonna get these people killed.”

He laughed, ignoring the rifle Maggie had aimed in his face.

“Well, you already got some people killed, didn’t you,” he chuckled.

Maggie sneered at him and whipped the gun around, slamming the butt of it into his head again so that he fell to the side. She then took a step back.

“Hey,” one of the Saviors said softly. “Thank you.”

Emma recognized him as the man who had spoken to Jesus earlier, outside the wall.

“Don’t make me regret it. Or you will,” Maggie said coldly before walking away.

Kal and Eduardo stepped out of the cage and Dianne closed it up, locking the Saviors and Gregory within.

Emma turned her back on the cage and suppressed a shiver. She told herself that at least they weren’t being hanged. _Yet,_ she thought morbidly.

* * *

* * *

It was warmer now, and Carl had stuffed his jacket into his backpack while Anna tied hers around her satchel. Siddiq continued to walk sluggishly beside them.

“Hey, Siddiq, what did you do before?” Anna asked.

“I—”

Growling cut him off and the three turned to face the sound. They ducked, weapons ready as they approached cautiously and hid behind a fallen tree. They spotted three walkers tearing apart a buck.

“Well, that would have been nice to have gotten to first,” Anna huffed.

“Okay,” Carl said to Siddiq, “For your mom,” and he stepped over the tree.

Siddiq looked confused at Anna before the two quickly followed the teen. Carl and Anna dropped their packs and Anna pulled her stick. She picked out the biggest walker, deciding it would be better to leave the smaller ones to the youngest and the weakest of them.

The walkers quickly took notice of their approach and stood from their meal in favor of the fresher meat. Siddiq managed to take out the first walker by stabbing it upward through the chin, while Carl shoved his own walker to the side and stabbed it through the back of the head.

“Just go,” Siddiq pleaded. “You don’t have to do this.”

Anna waited for her walker to come closer before she whipped her stick around, knocking it against the side of the head. It fell to the ground and she rammed the end of her stick into its decaying skull.

More growls came from her left and she looked up to see five more walkers stumbling through the woods, attracted by the struggle. Siddiq grabbed one, holding it back as it snapped at his face. Anna focused on the other three, one of which had a sharpened branch through its torso.

She knocked one to the ground before taking hold of the branch in the other and yanking it to the side, forcing the walker off balance.

She heard grunting behind her and realized she’d lost track of the third and fourth walkers, but the first was already getting to its feet. Anna dropped the branch and used both hands on her stick to take down the first walker and the walker with the branch.

Anna jumped at the two gunshots that echoed through the woods and whirled around to see Carl laying against the dead buck, two walkers motionless around him and his gun in hand. Siddiq was on the ground and was panting over two others.

“Is everyone all right?” Anna asked as Carl slowly got to his feet, his entire back soaked in blood.

Siddiq stood unsteadily.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Carl breathed.

“You could’ve left,” Siddiq said.

Carl looked around at the scattered corpses, seeming to be in his own world.

“Carl?” Anna called.

Carl shook his head and turned to Siddiq.

“I’m responsible for you now,” he declared. “That’s how it works.”

“I don’t want to make any trouble,” Siddiq insisted. “Your dad didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“He didn’t, but…,” he paused, “sometimes kids have to find their own way to show their parents the way,” Carl explained before starting for the bags.

Siddiq looked to Anna.

“He’s made up his mind,” Anna shrugged, before following after Carl. “Might as well go with it.”

* * *

* * *

Emma leaned against the wall, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. Just a little bit longer and she could go upstairs and pass out in her bed. She could hear the low murmur of Aaron’s voice, muffled through the wood so that she couldn’t make out the words. The soft sound could have lured her into sleep.

The front door opened and Jesus stepped inside, shutting the door behind him as he looked at her.

“Everything all right?” Emma asked.

“Yeah, Gregory is… doing what he does,” Jesus sighed, walking to the office doors and pushing one open.

Emma followed him into the office to see Aaron and Enid sitting in front of Maggie at the desk while Maggie held Gracie, the newest addition to the colony.

“How is he?” Maggie asked.

“Gregory’s fine,” Jesus assured, shutting the door. “He’s trying to suck up to the Saviors now. I just wanted to say, I think you did the right thing. And I wanted to thank you.”

“Don’t,” Maggie said.

Gracie began to cry and Maggie hushed her, getting up from the ornate chair to walk to the window.

“The Saviors in that pen might be bargaining chips,” Maggie explained when Gracie quieted. “Maybe we’ll have to trade them for some of our own people. They’re alive ‘cause we might need them.”

Emma’s heart sank.

“Jesus, if we don’t…,” Maggie continued, turning toward them, “we can’t let them live.”

Aaron pushed himself up and quietly left, Enid following after him.

“You two were up all night, you should get some sleep,” Maggie said, looking out the window, indicating that she had no intention to continue the conversation.

Emma pressed her lips together and left the room, Jesus behind her. Out in the foyer, she turned to him.

“Not exactly what I was hoping for,” Jesus said, brushing some hair out of his face.

“Took the words out of my mouth,” Emma said.

“I’ll talk to her again,” he assured. “Maybe I can change her mind.”

Emma looked at him doubtfully.

“I’m not so sure you can,” Emma admitted. “But you can try. We both will. And I hope for the Saviors’ sake that they try, too.”

Jesus nodded his agreement before smiling down at her.

“You look exhausted. Go get some sleep,” he ordered gently, patting her on the arm.

Emma gave him a tired smile before heading up the stairs and to her room. She made quick work of cleaning up and changing and then she fell into bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

* * *

* * *

Daryl peered through the scope, watching the walkers writhing together around the Sanctuary.

“Our people are going to be at the Sanctuary soon, asking for their surrender,” Rosita said from where she leaned against the truck. “We’re almost there.”

“That’s why we do it,” Daryl said, lowering the scope and turning to the others. “We make it happen.”

“So, we cover you with crossfire from the upper windows, you crash the truck into the walkers and through to the building,” Michonne clarified.

“Yep,” Tara said. “Crack it open, Savior buffet.”

“You know the workers will make it away, up the stairs?” Rosita asked.

“They’re on the other side of the building. They should make it,” Daryl assured.

“You sure?” Rosita asked, unconvinced.

“After we do this, their only choice is to give up,” Daryl insisted.

“It’s risky,” Michonne said, hands on her hips. “They could see the truck comin’.”

“There weren’t any more weapons at the Saviors’ warehouse, right?” Tara asked. “No more rockets for the RPGs. We work with what we got.”

“You got me,” came Morgan’s voice as he approached the group. “Other snipers, too. Saviors see you comin’, we got you covered, whatever it takes. I want it done. I want them done.”

“Good,” Daryl said, nodding to the man. “So, we doin’ this or what?”

“Why don’t we just wait it out like we planned? This is your girlfriend's plan,” Rosita said looking to Daryl. “Michonne’s right. What you’re talking about is risky. Things could go bad.”

“The truck with the speakers almost took all those walkers away,” Tara pointed out. “It almost did go bad. Something else could.”

“Even if it don’t, we don’t got the Kingdom fighters no more. If the Saviors want to put up a fight, we don’t got the numbers to make ‘em surrender,” Daryl huffed.

“That’s why Rick’s talking to the Scavengers,” Rosita challenged.

“You got shot. They lied to us,” Tara snapped. “You—you believe them now?”

“I believe in Rick Grimes, and Anna’s plan is the smartest play—even if you don’t think so,” Rosita sneered, looking between them.

Daryl clicked his teeth.

“I could’ve done something,” Tara started, walking toward Rosita, “sooner, to end this. I knew about those weapons at Oceanside, and I waited. I didn’t do shit about it. With or without you, I’m not letting that happen again.”

“Then it’s without me,” Rosita said simply. “I’m out,” she said, pushing off the truck and walking away.

“We got some cars parked near the east-side lookout,” Morgan informed. “You can take one and go home.”

Rosita nodded and turned back to Michonne.

“You staying?” She asked. “You good with all this?”

“I helped get this started,” Michonne said. “Got to see it through.”

“You think it’s easier to come out here and risk than to stay back there and wait,” Rosita began. “And I get it—I used to believe that, too. Thing is, sometimes, you just have to wait. Sometimes you don’t get to know. I just wish it didn’t take seeing Sasha walk out of that coffin to realize it.”

Rosita started off to the east-side lookout. Daryl shook his head.

“Come on,” he called. “Let’s go.”


	7. Chapter Six

Anna stood watch as Siddiq and Carl moved aside the man-hole cover. They had decided that, until they could speak with Rick, they needed to hide Siddiq. She hated that the sewers were their best option, but they would make it as comfortable as possible for the time being.

Carl climbed into the hole, leading the way down the ladder. Siddiq looked between the hole and Anna.

“It’s only temporary,” she assured.

He nodded and climbed in after Carl. Anna waited for Carl to return, downing one walker that had meandered over before he emerged from the hole. Together, they replaced the lid and made their way around the walls until they reached the front gate that opened upon their appearance.

Anna waved Carl off to clean up as she headed for her own house. She walked inside, immediately seeing Jessie at the kitchen island with a bowl of dry cereal in hand. She greeted him tiredly before disappearing into her and Daryl’s room.

After taking a long, hot shower and changing into some clean clothes, Anna went to the kitchen to fix herself something to eat that was more substantial than a granola bar.

“How was everything?” Jessie asked as he washed his bowl and spoon in the sink.

“Exhausting,” Anna said, setting a bowl of some leftover chili-mac in the microwave to heat up. “Morgan’s there now. We’ll head there tomorrow and ask for their surrender. Everything’s going according to plan.”

Jessie nodded, drying his dishes and putting them away.

“Where’s Daryl?” Anna asked.

“He left with Tara yesterday,” Jessie said.

“Why?” Anna asked.

“I don’t know,” Jessie shrugged. “Didn’t see him long enough to ask.”

Anna sighed heavily as the microwave beeped obnoxiously at her, letting her know her food was ready. She pulled it out, careful not to burn herself, and stirred it up, making sure it was heated evenly before shoveling it into her mouth. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“Pace yourself, you’ll choke,” Jessie warned.

She grumbled at him as she finished off her food. After washing her dishes, she put them away and started for her bedroom.

“Going to take a nap?” Jessie asked teasingly.

“No, I’m going to go find out where the hell Daryl and Tara went,” she huffed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Michonne and Rosita left yesterday, too,” he said just before she could turn into the hall.

“What?” She snapped, whirling around.

“No. I don’t know where or why they went either,” Jessie said, brushing off her clear irritation.

Anna ran her hands through her damp hair, trying to think of some reasonable explanation as to why the four would have taken off. A knock at the door pulled their attention, and Anna went to answer it.

On the other side was Rosita, arms crossed over her chest and an expression that said she didn’t want to be there.

“They said you just got back,” Rosita said, uncrossing her arms to put her hands on her hips. “Daryl and Tara—” she began.

“Where did they go?” Anna asked, cutting her off.

“They went to Sanctuary. I went with Michonne. She only wanted to see it but now she’s with those two,” Rosita answered.

“What are they doing there?” Anna pushed, though she suspected she already knew.

“They want to end it. They’re tired of waiting,” Rosita said, shaking her head. “They’re gonna ram a truck into the building and let the walkers in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jessie huffed.

“Are they already there?” Anna asked, dread creeping up.

“Yeah.”

“Damn it,” Anna hissed.

Even if she left now, she wouldn’t get there in time to stop them. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

Rosita nodded, casting a glance at Jessie before she started down the walkway, heading home, Anna assumed. She shut the door and went back to the kitchen, grabbing the tupperware bowl of chili-mac. She threw it in the microwave for a few minutes before heading to her room to grab her satchel.

“You aren’t seriously going after them, are you?” Jessie asked, following her. “You’ll never make it.”

“I’m not. Look, there’s just something I need to do,” she said. “I’ll explain later.”

She dug around the linen closet and found a plastic bag full of small candles. She threw them into her bag, along with a box of matches, before heading back to the kitchen, where the microwave beeped at them. She grabbed some bowls and spoons before taking out the food and heading for the door.

“Why the food?” Jessie called as she opened the door and started out.

“I’ll explain later,” she repeated, shutting the door and heading down the street toward a man-hole cover where Carl stood holding some bedding, a brown paper bag, and a folded army cot.

They glanced around and, spotting no one in sight, pulled the cover away. Carl climbed in, and Anna passed him the supplies, struggling a little with getting the cot through the hole but ultimately managing, before climbing in after him.

Carl led the way through the sewers, turning every which way until they found Siddiq, resting in the driest spot he could find. He gave a start at their approach, but relaxed when he realized it was them.

“Brought some food,” Anna said, holding up the tupperware bowl, the plastic fogged over from the heat within. “I hope you like chili-mac.”

Siddiq eyed the food hungrily and nodded. She set the chili down next to him and dug out a bowl and spoon, passing it to Siddiq.

“Help yourself. Carl and I will set this up for you,” she said.

He accepted her offering and dished up some of the chili, devouring it immediately.

“Pace yourself. You’ll choke,” Anna teased, echoing her brother.

Siddiq nodded, barely listening, but forced himself to slow down and savor the food.

“Did you make this?” He asked as Anna and Carl set up the cot.

“My brother did,” Anna said, tossing the fluffy pillow to one end of the cot.

Carl passed her one end of the blanket and they spread it out over the cot. She smoothed out the wrinkles for good measure.

“Carl, have you eaten yet?” She asked.

“Uh, no?” Carl said questioningly.

Anna rolled her eyes and dug out the second bowl and spoon she had packed and dished up a helping of the chili-mac. She passed it to him.

“Eat up, kiddo,” she instructed, getting to her feet. “Siddiq, I’ll bring some more food for dinner before I leave.”

Siddiq nodded, finishing his bowl.

Anna pulled out the plastic bag of candles and the box of matches, dropping them onto the cot.

“I’ll see you later,” Anna said, heading off back the way they’d come until she found the man-hole.

She pushed it aside and climbed out, replacing it before heading back to the house. Jessie was gone when she returned, and she went to the office where most of her planning notes were.

Anna sat down, tapping her fingers against the arms of her chair. Her mind whirled with the possibilities of Daryl, Tara, and Michonne’s plan. How would it affect her plan? They couldn’t exactly ask a bunch of corpses to surrender, dead or otherwise.

There were two reasons she wanted a surrender. One was to ensure Negan’s death. She didn’t want to leave it up to chance like she had with Isaac. The second was to give the Saviors a chance to be better. It was a chance she had gotten many times, and a chance she had taken away.

Now, Daryl, Tara, and Michonne were going to take that away. Daryl was. And at what cost? Her frustration began to fester into anger and her hands curled into fists. She felt betrayed and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

“Damn it.”

* * *

* * *

Daryl drove the garbage truck closer to the Sanctuary, Michonne and Tara beside him.

\-- _“Hey, cut that engine. Any closer, you’ll draw walkers from the yard,”_ \-- Morgan called over the walkie.

Daryl pulled the truck to a stop and turned it off, pulling the scope from his jacket pocket and peering through it. He could just see the walkers surrounding the building before he passed the scope to Tara.

\-- _“You take fire from the windows, we fire back,”_ \-- Morgan assured.

“Come on,” Tara said, handing the scope back. “There’s a spot for cover by the chutes,” she said, climbing out of the truck.

Michonne didn’t move, staring at the walkers. Daryl looked at her.

“You up for this?” He asked.

She exhaled slowly.

“I came here ‘cause I wanted to see things for myself,” she started. “I wanted to know that things were gonna work. But you know what? I don’t get to know that,” she said, shaking her head before looking at him. “None of us do. What I do know is that things are working now. So maybe… we just need to trust that things are gonna keep working, because this… what we’re about to do… it’s not worth risking us.”

Daryl thought of Anna. He knew what he was doing would hurt her, and he wanted to turn back. But then he thought of the dog food, and the vomit, and the handcuffs in the closet, and that damn song played in his head again as he saw Glenn and Abraham twitching on the ground.

“It is for me,” he finally said. “Just is.”

Michonne bowed her head.

“I hope it works. I-I really, really do, but I-I can’t do it,” she said. “I just can’t.”

“Then you shouldn’t,” Daryl said.

Michonne pressed her lips together and gathered her sword, climbing out of the truck and shutting the door. Daryl looked back at the walkers for a moment, then Tara came around to the driver’s side door.

“We got Morgan and the snipers. We can do this,” she assured.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “We will.”

* * *

* * *

Simon paced back and forth as Isaac lounged in the arm chair. He’d come to see Simon, and had been sitting quietly for a few minutes, watching the man walk one way, turn, then walk the other way, rubbing his bald, round head.

“I just don’t understand why Negan would trust Eugene to get us out of here,” Isaac muttered, drumming his fingers against the arms of the chair. “He’s probably the rat.”

“Nah,” Simon said, resting his hands on his hips. “He’s too terrified of dying to risk being the rat.”

“I want to believe that,” Isaac sighed. “But Laura told me about what happened at Alexandria. They covered for him and he still turned himself over. He was protecting them. He’s still protecting them.”

“He’s too much of a coward,” Simon insisted, though he seemed unsure as he looked out the window.

“Even cowards can be dangerous,” Isaac said easily. “They’re the ones you least suspect.”

Simon’s brows furrowed, and his face set into a deep frown.

“What the hell is that?” Simon asked, squinting.

“What?” Isaac asked, getting to his feet to see a red and white garbage truck pulling around the corner at full speed.

As it neared the fence, the drivers’ side door opened and a man flew out, rolling out of the way as the truck barreled through the chain-link, smashing into walkers. The walls and floor shook as the truck rammed into the side of the building and Isaac had to catch himself on the table.

_So much for Anna’s plan,_ Isaac thought bitterly as he and Simon pulled their guns and ran for the lower levels.

* * *

* * *

Anna sighed heavily as she settled in the bean bag chair, adjusting the cord between her legs with one hand and holding the controller with the other.

“F-Zero X again?” Anna asked.

“No, I thought we’d play something else,” Carl said as he pulled a game from the shelf.

Judith made a babbling noise from where she played with her toys in the corner. Her little hand was still stained blue from the paint she and Carl had used to put their handprints on the porch. Anna smiled at the little girl when she looked up at her.

“What are we playing, then?” Anna asked.

“WWF WrestleMania 2000,” Carl said, popping the game in and showing her the case.

“WrestleMania?” Anna asked, cocking a brow at him.

“Yup,” Carl grinned as he sat down beside her, and the game loaded up.

They selected their characters and entered the arena. Anna figured out the controls a lot faster in this game than in the racing game.

“Are you mad at Daryl and Tara?” Carl asked, not taking his eyes from the screen.

Anna pursed her lips. When Michonne had returned and admitted to what was going on—upset would have been an understatement of what Anna was feeling.

“I don’t think mad covers it,” Anna admitted. “I get why they’re doing it, but they’re wrong. It’s risking too much.”

“But you’ll forgive them, right?” Carl asked.

Anna was quiet. Deep down she knew she would, but she was still too angry to say as much. She took a deep breath and glared at the screen as she beat Carl’s character and ended the round.

“Anna?” Carl asked, pausing the game to look at her. “You’ll forgive them, right?”

“Eventually,” Anna finally said.

Carl frowned at her and resumed the game as it started a new round.

“Eventually…. There’s not a whole lot of time for ‘eventually’,” he said.

“That was mighty philosophical of you,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve just been thinking,” Carl shrugged.

“Well, I think we’ve both done enough thinking for now, and there’s nothing more we can do. So, let’s just play,” Anna said, gesturing to the TV.

They played for a few more minutes before Carl interrupted their focus again.

“You think the Saviors can change?” He asked.

“I think anyone can change, if they're willing to,” Anna said. “I changed. It took a hell of a lot to do it, but here I am.”

“Do you think Negan could change?”

Anna paused the game and turned her body to look at Carl. He seemed paler than usual.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” Carl assured. “It’s just like what you said. Anyone can change.”

“What makes you think he wants to change?” She countered.

“I don’t know if he wants to. But shouldn’t he get that choice too?” He asked, a sincerity to his voice that Anna hadn’t expected.

“He—” she began when a car door slammed shut outside.

She pulled herself from the bean bag chair and peered out the window, seeing that Tara and Daryl had just arrived.

“Well, they’re still alive,” Anna muttered, setting down her controller and heading out of the room.

Anna made her way out of the house and made a beeline for the two as Michonne, Rosita, and Tobin surrounded them.

“Hey, we did it—it’s done,” Tara said, grinning at Anna, waiting for a high-five.

Her smile fell away from her face as she registered the infuriated glare Anna shot her way. Anna could feel her skin heating with anger.

“What the actual fuck were you two thinking?” She snapped. “Are you trying to get yourselves killed?” Anna asked, looking between Tara and Daryl.

“No, and we didn’t. We’re fine. Our plan worked,” Tara said.

“And you know this for certain?” Anna asked, focusing on Tara. “You saw Negan, you made sure he’s dead?”

“N-no, but—there’s no way he would have survived that,” Tara insisted.

“Are you a fucking moron?” Anna asked.

“Your plan had us waiting on the Saviors to surrender,” Tara scoffed. “Your plan wasn’t doing shit.”

Anna straightened, taking a step back as ice shot through her veins. She felt that familiar, frigid rage draping over her like armor. She knew that if she continued this confrontation, she’d say or do something she couldn’t take back or apologize for.

“I’m going to walk away before this gets out of hand,” Anna said, turning on her heel and walking away.

She made it halfway down the street when she felt Daryl’s hand gently take her arm and pull her to a stop. She turned to him, clamping her mouth shut.

“Look, I get you’re mad, but it worked,” Daryl said.

“You don’t know that,” Anna huffed. “Why couldn’t you have just waited?”

“How could I?” Daryl asked. “After Denise, Abraham, Glenn, and Sasha—after everythin’—”

“This isn’t about what happened,” Anna interrupted. “It’s not about who Negan or Dwight killed and hurt. This is about carving out a better future from a pile of shit. We can’t let our own egos get in the way of that.”

Daryl shook his head, looking away from her as he pressed his lips together.

“Killing Dwight and Negan isn’t going to bring any of them back and it’s not going to undo what Dwight did to you,” Anna went on.

“Would you wait if it had been you?” Daryl hissed.

Anna was taken back for a moment, furrowing her brow at him.

“It was me,” she said. “What Isaac—” her voice cracked and she bowed her head.

“Anna—”

“No,” she bit out, looking up at him, feeling the tears stinging at her bottom lids. “You don’t think I want him dead? That I don’t want Negan dead? Glenn was my best friend. Abraham and Sasha and Denise—they were family. But I can wait.”

With that, she turned and walked away. He didn’t call out to her or try to stop her. She didn’t want him to.

* * *

In an attempt to distract herself, Anna spent time working on the files of the fallen Alexandrians. She thought about what Carl said, that there wasn’t enough time for ‘eventually’ forgiving them. They thought they were doing the right thing. But Anna just couldn’t get past the betrayal and the feeling of foreboding that was twisting her insides.

After sufficiently tiring herself, Anna took a quick shower and prepared some dinner, making extra to take to Siddiq, before packing her satchel. Taking another tupperware bowl of food, Anna left the rest of the dinner in the microwave for Jessie and Daryl. She left before they returned and found Carl waiting for her at the man-hole cover.

“I brought some drinks this time,” Carl said, holding up a brown paper bag.

“Good idea,” Anna nodded.

They moved the cover aside and climbed down, closing themselves in. The two walked beside each other this time, finding Siddiq curled up on the cot. He sat up at their approach, a grin spreading across his face.

“Whatever you brought, it smells amazing,” he said.

“Some Wacky Mac,” Anna laughed, the name having always made her giggle.

“Wacky Mac? I haven’t had that since I was a kid,” Siddiq laughed and began to dish up the pasta.

Carl passed out some water and the three ate and talked, laughing at each other's jokes. Carl told Siddiq of how they had come from Georgia and about some of the things they had been through there as well as on the way here. Anna noticed how he didn’t touch his food much. Siddiq told them a bit of his own journey, but didn’t seem quite ready to talk about all of it, particularly his mother.

They nodded understandingly, and Anna looked at her watch in the dim candle light.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stick around—it’s about time to go,” Anna sighed, getting to her feet. “Mind if I use that?” Anna asked, pointing at the brown paper bag Carl had carried the waters in.

“Yeah,” Carl said, passing her the bag.

Anna gathered up the dirty dishes and carefully stacked them within the bag.

“I should get back, too,” Carl said reluctantly.

Siddiq nodded, and they bid each other farewell before Anna and Carl went back. They climbed out of the sewer and moved the cover back over the man-hole.

“Carl, Anna,” Michonne called as she rounded the corner of a house.

“Shit,” Anna muttered.

“I’ve been lookin’ for you two,” Michonne said. “We’re about ready to head out. What are you doing?”

“We’re helping someone,” Carl admitted. “A traveler.”

Anna pressed her lips together and put her hands on her hips, looking at her feet before peering back up at the woman. Michonne looked to the man-hole then back at them.

“In the sewer?” Michonne asked.

Anna opened her mouth to explain when a loud, metallic clanging interrupted her. They looked to the front gate, confused; a high-pitched whine came just before a voice she most certainly did not want to hear came over the loudspeaker.

“You may be wondering why the hell your lookouts didn’t sound the alarm,” Negan said. “See, we are polite. I mean, I don’t know when they’re gonna wake up from that kinda shot, but they should wake up. So, let’s just cut through the cow shit—you lose. It’s over. So, you’re gonna line up in front of your little houses, and you’re gonna work up some apologies, and then the person with the lamest one is gonna get killed. Then I kill Rick in front of everybody, and we move on. You have three—count ‘em—three minutes to open this gate, or we start bombing the shit out of you!”


	8. Chapter Seven

Emma swayed with the truck, her shoulders pressed against Dianne’s and Neil’s on either side. It had taken some convincing to get Maggie and Jesus to agree to let her join them. She wanted to be there at Sanctuary. She just knew this was going to be historic.

“Do you think they’ll surrender?” Jesus asked from behind the wheel.

“They will,” Maggie said from the passenger’s seat. “Eventually.”

“Not now?” Emma asked.

“Would we give up that quick?” Maggie challenged slyly.

“Nope, we wouldn’t,” Jesus agreed.

“Damn straight,” Neil cheered.

“They don’t surrender today, they will soon,” Maggie assured. “Just need to run out of food, water…, choices.”

That was the plan. That had always been the plan. To get them to turn on Negan when he couldn’t deliver the Saviors from suffering. It was psychological, and based on human instinct.

“Slow down,” Maggie ordered.

“What is it?” Dianne asked.

“Tree in the road—wasn’t there before,” Maggie said.

“Could’ve fallen on its own,” Jesus offered, taking the caravan closer. “Trees do that.”

“It’s them,” Maggie insisted. “Something happened.”

Jesus slowed to a stop and Maggie pulled out her walkie.

“Bertie, turn around,” Maggie said. “Bertie,” she repeated when there was no answer.

Emma and the others shifted in their seats to look out the back window.

“Maggie,” Dianne called.

Driving over the hill, straight for them, were headlights. Emma watched as a long line of cars parked behind them and a moving truck drove past them, parking between them and the tree. Once it came to a complete stop, the back door slid open, revealing three Saviors standing over a beaten Jerry from the Kingdom.

“Oh shit,” Neil huffed, looking over his shoulder.

One Savior climbed from the back of the truck and lowered the ramp. He pulled Jerry to his feet and forced him down the ramp, only for Jerry to stumble and roll down the rest of the way. Frustrated, the Savior dragged him across the ground and brought him to sit on his knees. He pulled a gun but did not hold it to Jerry’s head.

The other two Saviors unloaded a wooden box and propped it on the hood of their truck, directly in front of Maggie. The passenger door of the moving truck opened and Simon stepped out, sauntering toward them. On the other side, Isaac appeared.

“Hello, hello, hello,” he called, raising his hand as if greeting some friendly neighbors. “Ah, What a damn nice night.”

“Shit,” Emma hissed.

“You all know the drill,” Simon continued. “Due to your recent decisions, everything has changed. And yet, nothing has changed. Everyone needs to hand over their guns. Gary, shoot that beautiful bastard if anyone tries anything,” he instructed.

Gary pulled Jerry’s head up by the hair and aimed his pistol at the man's head.

“Same goes for everyone in the cars,” Simon added as he approached Maggie’s window and Isaac stopped at Jesus’s window.

Jesus passed his rifle through the window. Dianne and Neil passed their rifles forward, and Emma handed over her pistol. Simon held his hand out for Maggie’s revolver and she dropped it in his hands.

“How’d you get out?” Maggie asked.

“Three guesses,” Simon grinned, leaning against the door.

Maggie simply glared at him.

“Well, let’s just say we figured it out,” he finally said.

“What’d you do to the others—”

“Oh, yes!” Simon said, interrupting Maggie. “That’s exactly where I was going next. Right now, Kingdom is getting its innards splayed out for the world to see. And the Saviors will be taking possession of that property, starting tonight. Same with Alexandria. As long as they don’t make it complicated,” he chuckled. “But Hilltop? The farmers? The breadbasket of our nascent civilization? It’s your lucky day. You’ve been chosen to keep producing. Gregory made a little bit of a fool out of me in front of the big man, so I am hoping that you are the one to make things right.”

Softly, music played in the distance.

“You hear that?” Simon asked, pointing to his ear. “I need you to shift into active listening. Eugene!” He cheered. “Who, by the way, I was admittedly skeptical of, but, man, worked out like gangbusters. He helped us get out of the situation with the masses of the cold and impolite. And now my guys are leading the rest of the herd away. So… this can go one of two ways. One, I can kill this likable gent on his knees over there,” he said, gesturing to Jerry. “Drag you out of this car, and put you in this box,” he hummed questioningly.

Emma winced at the assertion.

“In which you will not suffocate to death, like your friend, Sasha,” Simon assured. “And then we take you to Hilltop, gather everyone up, and kill you in front of the whole place. And then drag you back to Sanctuary and put you on the spike in front of HQ. And then my people will lead the walker herd to the Hilltop and pull off the same move that your people tried unsuccessfully at our place.”

Maggie looked to him stoically, and Simon scoffed. Emma’s heart pounded in her chest and she thought she might throw up.

“What a pain in the ass for everyone concerned,” he groaned. “Or two, you turn around, go home, start watering that sorghum, save everyone and, most importantly, me, a lot of trouble. And, yeah… we’re gonna have to kill one of your people. But then we’re aces.”

Simon stood back from the truck and Gary readied to shoot Jerry.

“Nah, Gary,” Simon called. “I got this.”

Simon pulled his gun and fired so quickly that Emma barely had time to react. Hot blood sprayed across her face and Neil slumped heavily against her. She stared wide-eyed in front of her, her vision blurring.

“I just really needed you to know what I was talkin’ about,” Simon said. “I need you to smell it. Now tell me I don’t got to kill the gent with the lustrous mane.” Maggie didn’t answer. “Tell me I don’t got to go down the line. Tell me, Maggie! Gary!”

“No!”

Emma jumped at Maggie’s shrill demand.

“You don’t need to do any of it,” Maggie said, quickly calming herself. “I just want to ask you a favor.”

“What is that?” Simon asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“I’d like that box,” Maggie requested. “Take Neil home, to bury him in.”

Simon chuckled, leaning further into the window.

“Favor granted,” he said.

He raised his hand and gestured for the Saviors to leave. Simon and the Saviors loaded up, leaving Jerry behind on the road as they pulled out and drove away.

* * *

* * *

“You need to make it look like we’re escaping out back,” Carl said, shoving some smoke grenades into a bag. “Get to the woods, halfway to the quarry, and cut the lights. Get enough of a lead on them, hit them, and get away on foot. You know where we’ll be.”

Anna nodded, checking her rifle and adjusting her stick on her back.

“Just have to get the guns, get everyone else here, and we’ll meet you there,” he went on, slinging the bag across his body.

“Two minutes, people!” Negan called. “Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit.”

“Get going,” Carl ordered. “There’s gonna be people in the infirmary. They’re gonna need your help.”

Tobin, Scott, and Andy nodded and rushed off for the infirmary.

“Look, we got guns,” Tara said, stepping forward. “We can fight them.”

“We will, but not now,” Rosita interjected.

“Carl’s right,” Anna agreed.

“We can’t just let them have this place,” Michonne implored.

“We can,” Carl assured. “All you need to do is survive tonight. This is my show. You said it. This is my plan, and you’re gonna do it. You’re all gonna do it,” he said, heading off.

“One minute!” Negan shouted.

“Let’s go,” Anna said, grabbing a couple smoke grenades for herself.

She led Jessie, Tara, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl to the back, where they had lined up the two garbage trucks the scavengers left behind and the vans. “You know where to go,” Anna said, gesturing for Daryl to get into the first truck. “Everyone load up. We’re driving straight through. Do not stop until we reach the halfway point,” she instructed as she moved down the line.

They all loaded up in the vehicles before Anna jumped into the van at the back of the line, buckling in for good measure. She turned the engine and watched as the brake lights of the van in front of her blinked on. And then they were off, and Anna hit the gas pedal.

She heard the back panels of the walls burst open as Daryl drove the first truck through it, and the caravan sped through after him. By the time she passed the Saviors waiting for them on the other side, they had already gathered what was happening and fired on her, their bullets striking the hull of the van.

Eventually, the gun fire stopped, and they raced to the halfway point. When Anna saw that the caravan had stopped, she slammed on her breaks and parked the van, cutting the engine.

“Get into position,” Anna barked out, pulling the smoke grenades from her satchel.

The others rushed to the trees, disappearing within as she pulled and dropped the grenades in the road. She darted off to the right and settled in between Jessie and Daryl.

“They didn’t get out because of what we did with the truck,” Tara said, looking at Daryl.

Daryl looked to her, then to Anna, who clamped her mouth shut and focused her glare on the road.

“Even if they did, it was just a mistake,” Rosita said. “And I made one, too. If I hadn’t gone to the Sanctuary to kill Negan, maybe Sasha would still be alive. Maybe she would’ve gone herself. Maybe everything would’ve ended up going exactly the same way. I didn’t want you guys to do it, but maybe you needed to. Maybe you needed to play things out to figure shit out.”

“Where the hell are they?” Michonne hissed.

“They’re coming,” Anna assured.

Just as the words left her mouth, the sound of vehicles approaching filled the air, and they readied their rifles. The line of cars pulled into the smoke and squealed to a stop.

“Now,” Daryl called, and they opened fire.

Their bullets clanged against metal and pierced flesh as the Saviors jumped out of their cars to return fire. Mixed in with the clap of rifle fire was the baritone explosion of a pistol, and the fire they were taking from the Saviors soon died out.

Anna could see one Savior left and fired on her, only for her to round the car. There was another shot.

“Tell them to stop!” Anna heard over their rifles.

Finally, Anna spotted her through the window and fired, shattering the glass only for the woman to dart away. They continued to shoot at her until she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the road.

“It’s over!” Called Dwight.

After a moment, Anna lowered her rifle and the others followed her out onto the road where they found him sitting against the front car, clutching his left arm. Daryl and Tara kept their rifles aimed on him.

“I made sure you guys could get out the back,” Dwight explained. “I drove the convoy right up to the roadblock. I knew what it was.”

Daryl dropped his gun.

“I can’t go back,” Dwight said. “One of ‘em got away. She’s gonna tell them.”

“How’d they get out?” Daryl asked. “Was it what I did?”

Dwight dropped his head.

“Eugene,” he said. “I can still help you. I know how they work, how Negan thinks. I want you to win. I want Negan to die. And we can settle up after.”

Daryl reached forward and grabbed the vest Dwight wore, pulling it over his head roughly, and Dwight groaned in pain. Daryl shook it out before walking away.

Michonne rounded the car, several guns hanging from her shoulder.

“We need to get back—now,” she said, heading for the vans.

Tara and Jessie followed. Anna looked to Rosita before turning to Dwight. The two women helped him to his feet and guided him to Anna’s van, where they placed him in the passenger seat. Anna assured Rosita she’d be fine and climbed back into the drivers’ seat.

“Thank you,” Dwight said.

“Was it what they did?” Anna asked, keeping her eyes forward as she gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

Dwight was quiet for a moment.

“It was part of it,” he finally admitted. “Letting the walkers into the building gave us a chance to take ‘em out without worrying about the snipers.”

Anna bit her cheek and nodded, starting the van and taking the lead on returning to Alexandria.

* * *

* * *

The caravan pulled into the gates of Hilltop, and Emma jumped out of the truck as soon as Jesus put it in park. Maggie got out as well and stormed over to the prisoners. Emma furrowed her brow and followed after the woman.

Maggie stood at the fence, and Gregory scrambled up to her.

“Margaret, I—I understand you putting me in here, a-a-and message received but… you know I don’t belong in here,” Gregory implored.

“Shut up,” Maggie said, surveying the Saviors.

“What happened out there?” Kal asked.

“That one,” Maggie said, pointing out a tall Savior with shaggy brown hair. “Get him out.”

“He gets out?” Gregory asked, incredulous.

“Maggie, what are you doing?” Jesus asked as he approached.

The guards opened the gate and Eduardo led the man out.

“Kal, I need your gun,” Maggie said, ignoring Jesus.

Kal hesitated a moment, confused, but handed it over nonetheless.

The Savior tore his arm out of Eduardo’s grip and stood there, glaring at Maggie.

“Maggie, you don’t need to do this,” Emma said.

“This one tried to kill you,” Maggie said, speaking to Jesus.

“Maggie, you don’t wanna do this,” the Savior, Alden, called.

“Shut up, Al,” the Savior standing in front of Maggie shouted. “If Cupcake wants to put on a show, let her put on a show,” he said.

Maggie glared at him and, without a word, fired into his chest. He fell to the ground and she aimed at Alden.

“You wanna be next?” She threatened.

“No, I don’t,” Alden said, openly fearful.

Maggie finally lowered the gun before looking to Kal.

“Saviors killed one of our own tonight on the road,” she explained. “We aren’t even, but that was a start.”

“Maggie,” Jesus called when she turned to leave.

“Get more guards on duty. Start fortifying the walls and bury Neil,” she ordered. “First light, everybody else starts tending crops.”

“I thought we don’t give up?” Jesus asked.

“No, we don’t,” Maggie snapped. “Simon said the others are under attack, which means there’s no more supplies going in, but there might be people. We have to be ready. Gonna be up to Hilltop to make the last stand.”

Emma looked to Jesus, unsure, but followed after Maggie.

“Maggie,” she called and the woman turned to her. “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“You have Neil’s blood on your face,” Maggie said simply.

Then she walked away. 

Emma wiped at her cheek without thinking, and red coated her fingers.

* * *

* * *

Daryl pulled the manhole cover aside, the solid metal scraping against the concrete. Once it was out of the way, he grabbed a rock and dropped it within to check for walkers. As Anna had predicted, there was no response to the rock splashing into the filthy water.

Before the group could begin their climb inside, they looked toward their home; walkers filtered into the opening in the wall they had created and fire gleamed, smoke curling into the air.

As Daryl climbed into the sewer, she wondered if their house had fallen victim to Negan’s bombing of Alexandria. If all of the books and the memories were being burned away. And for some reason, she worried about the little papier-mâché bird.

Tara followed Daryl into the sewer, and Rosita carefully passed their guns through before making her way inside as well.

“I’m sorry,” Dwight said, calling Anna’s attention. “I am,” he insisted, looking to the heartbroken Michonne before he climbed in.

“We can rebuild,” Anna assured before following.

They stood at the ladder, waiting for Michonne to join them.

“Michonne?” Rosita called when the woman made no move. “Michonne,” she repeated.

Michonne looked down on them before kneeling down and grabbing the cover.

“Michonne, don’t,” Anna said. “Michonne.”

But it was too late. Michonne shut them inside the sewer. Anna knew they could have gone after her, but what good would it have done? The woman had made up her mind, and Anna needed to get the others moving. So, she sighed and started down the tunnel.

“Before we get there, I should probably let you guys know something,” Anna said when she heard them following her through the water. “There’s a man. Carl and I found him in the woods. He’s been staying down here until we can talk to Rick.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little risky?” Tara asked.

Anna paused and looked at her, cocking a brow, and Tara clamped her mouth shut. They continued on.

As they drew closer, Anna could hear hushed murmurs. They rounded the corner to see the Alexandrians sitting and standing along the walls of the sewer. Tobin held Judith and Siddiq sat on his cot, looking around at them in confusion and panic before turning to Carl.

Anna picked her way through, noting the sweat coating Carl’s flushed face.

“Carl?” Anna asked, crouching in front of him.

“I should have said something sooner,” Carl said, barely able to keep his eyes open.

She furrowed her brow.

“What are you talking about?”

“When we were fighting those walkers in the woods,” he said, pulling up his shirt to reveal a bandage on his side.

Anna inhaled sharply as he pulled the bandage away, an angry red bite mark beneath.

“No,” she breathed.


	9. Chapter Eight

Anna and Siddiq gently moved Carl to the cot, making sure he was comfortable. She held on to his hat so that it didn’t get dirty and sat beside him. Daryl had taken Judith from Tobin at some point and was holding the little girl close.

_"There’s not a whole lot of time for eventually.”_

Anna bowed her head, feeling the tears pricking at her eyes and her chest throbbing painfully.

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Rick and Michonne making their way through the crowded tunnel. Rick paused to look at Tara, and Anna knew Michonne had told him what happened. He continued on, looking to Dwight, who leaned against the wall, beaten. He brushed his hand against Judith’s shoulder and stopped in front of Siddiq, hovering over him

Siddiq stared up in apprehension and a bit of terror, unsure of what Rick was going to do, but then Rick’s eyes moved to Anna and Carl.

“I brought him here,” Carl said, swallowing hard.

Anna got to her feet and moved out of the way so that Rick and Michonne could see him. As they fell to their knees around him, Anna stood at the corner beside Daryl and Judith, gripping Carl’s hat with one hand.

“That’s how it happened,” Carl said, lifting away his shirt and bandage to show the bite to them.

Anna swallowed the sob that threatened to rip from her throat and looked away, unable to see it again. She felt a warm hand slip into hers, squeezing it, and she looked up and saw Daryl looking back at her. She hadn’t even noticed him stand. She flinched as the explosions drew closer and gripped his hand.

“I… I don’t—” Rick began.

“Dad,” Carl cut him off.

“How—”

“Dad,” Carl interrupted again. “It’s all right. It’s gotta be. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it back before…. But just in case, you know…,” he said, pulling a stack of folded papers from his back pocket. “I wanted to make sure I was able to say goodbye.”

He handed them to Michonne.

“No. It’s them. It’s them,” Rick insisted. “They—they don’t—It wasn’t... “

“Carl,” Michonne breathed.

“No,” Rick insisted. “No.”

“I got bit,” Carl said. “I was bringing someone back. His name’s Siddiq. We saw him at the gas station, before…. It wasn’t the Saviors. It just happened. I got bit.”

“I, um, I got these,” Siddiq said, digging in his pockets and pulling out a white pill bottle. “They’re over the counter, non-steroidal anti-inflammatories,” he explained, holding them out to Rick. “They’ll, um—they’ll help a little with the fever. They did for my mom and dad. Please take them,” he begged. “Your son… he should have them.”

Rick looked to Michonne, who nodded. He took them and read the label.

“You’re a doctor?” He asked quietly.

“I was a resident…, before,” Siddiq clarified. “Yeah.”

“Your name is Siddiq?” Rick went on.

“Yes,” Siddiq nodded.

“Did you know he was a doctor?” Rick asked, looking at Carl. “Is that why you brought him back?”

“He wasn’t gonna make it alone,” Carl corrected. “He needed us. That’s why.”

“He was the one at the gas station,” Rick muttered.

An explosion erupted overhead, the sewers shaking with the impact. Dust and small rubble fell over them. Anna and Daryl curled around Judith as Rick shielded a coughing Carl.

“Water. Give him water,” Michonne said frantically.

Siddiq quickly passed them one of the water bottles Carl had brought earlier. They helped him drink it. Anna and Daryl uncurled themselves from the little girl, who seemed unafraid by what was happening, but they remained close together, ready to shield her again.

Michonne turned and glared down the tunnel. She got to her feet, storming past.

“Make it stop,” she snapped, approaching Dwight.

She grabbed him and threw him against the wall.

“Make them stop,” she demanded as the bombing continued.

“I can’t,” he said.

“You can. You’re one of them. They’ll listen to you. Please,” she begged. “Please.”

Rosita stood and walked over to Michonne, resting her hand on the woman’s shoulder and gently moving her away from Dwight before looking to him.

“You said that Hilltop’s safe, right?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Dwight said, bowing his head.

“We need to get everybody there,” Rosita said, turning to Michonne. “We can get Carl there.”

“And they think all of you got away in the woods. They’re out there looking,” Dwight insisted.

“They saw us go West, so we won’t go West,” Tara countered.

“Your best chance is to stay here until they’re gone,” Dwight implored.

“No,” Daryl argued. “They find us here, we’re dead.”

“They’re almost done,” Dwight said. “They gotta be. It wasn’t about destroying the place. They don’t have the ammo for that. After they let up, after they’re gone, that’s when we go.”

Rosita looked to Anna.

“We wait,” Anna said. “Moving this many people? We can’t risk them spotting us.”

Rosita looked to Michonne, who nodded and then returned to Carl’s side.

“You sure going to Hilltop’s the best plan?” Dwight asked.

“You got a better one?” Rosita challenged.

“All of you in one place, together—” he started, only for Daryl to cut in.

“All of us together…,” Daryl said. “We’ll be their worst damn nightmare.”

* * *

When the explosions stopped, Daryl handed Judith to Anna and he, Scott, and Tobin went to make sure the coast was clear. Anna hugged Judith to her, still clutching Carl’s hat in one hand. The men returned not long after. Tara and Rosita began ushering people out of the sewers, ready to lead the Alexandrians to Hilltop.

“We can get Carl there,” Michonne assured Rick.

“Carl? No,” Rick said, shaking his head.

“Daryl can get one of the cars,” Michonne insisted.

“Carl won’t make—” he swallowed hard, unable to finish his sentence. “He can’t leave here. I have to stay with him.”

“Rick,” Michonne tried.

“He can’t,” he said with finality. “I have to stay.”

“We’ll both stay,” Michonne nodded.

“Will you—” Rick sighed. “Will you take Judith? She needs to be there. If she… If—” his voice broke and he looked away, “happens…”

“I’ll take her,” Daryl interrupted.

“We will,” Anna said, still holding the little girl.

“We’ll get her there,” Daryl said, nodding. “We’ll keep her safe. We got this.”

“Let me say goodbye,” Carl called, shifting on the cot.

Michonne and Rick helped him sit up and Anna knelt in front of him, balancing Judith on her knee. Carl smiled at the little girl.

“You be good, okay? For Michonne, and for dad,” he said. “You gotta honor him. Listen when he tells you stuff. You don’t have to always,” he laughed weakly. “Sometimes, kids got to show their parents the way.”

Carl reached for the hat Anna still held. She passed it to him, and he looked at it.

“This was Dad’s before it was mine,” he said, breathing heavily. “Now it’s yours. I don’t know… just—just having it and… it always kept Dad with me. It made me feel as strong as him. It helped me. Maybe it’ll help you, too.” He turned the hat in his hands. “Before Mom died… she told me that I was gonna beat this world. I didn’t. But you will. I know you will.”

Judith whined and reached out for Carl before she began to cry. Anna pulled her back and turned, handing her to Daryl, who quieted her wailing.

“These people,” Daryl began, looking at Carl. “You saved ‘em all. That’s all you, man.”

With that, Daryl turned and walked away to catch up with the others. Carl handed Anna his hat.

“Keep it until she’s ready to start wearing it,” he said and she nodded before bowing her head.

“Carl, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s not on you.”

She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped at the tears that had escaped down her face. She huffed and forced herself to smile at him but it quickly fell away. She leaned forward and gently kissed his forehead, her lower lip trembling before she stood and backed away.

Siddiq stepped forward and sat down in front of him.

“You were helping me honor my mom,” he said.

“Not just yours,” Carl corrected. “Mine, too.”

“You brought me here. You gave me a chance,” Siddiq shook his head. “I know I can never repay you… but I can honor you by showing your people, your f-friends, your—your family that what you did wasn’t for nothing. That it mattered. That it—that it meant something. Because it did. So, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Siddiq declared. “I’m gonna honor you, Carl.”

Carl smiled at him and held out his hand. Siddiq took it.

“Congratulations,” Carl said. “You’re stuck with us.”

Siddiq laughed and got to his feet. He looked to Rick and Michonne, who nodded to him, and then approached Anna.

“Let’s go,” she said, and they walked together down the tunnel.

Siddiq wiped at the tears in his eyes, and Anna glanced over her shoulder to see Carl one last time before they turned the corner.

* * *

They walked through the night and continued even after the sun came up, stopping only long enough to make sure they weren’t being followed before continuing on. Anna circled around the group, slipping in and out of sight and keeping walkers out of their way with silent strikes of her stick.

Now the group was stopped under a bridge, hidden within the foliage as she and Daryl listened to the Saviors lingering above them.

\-- _“Patrols, we got an Orange Situation. Dr. Carson and the priest. Might’ve split overnight, maybe this morning. Jeremy’s green sedan is MIA so could be in that. Go for standard search and cover in our perimeter around Hilltop. Eyeballs open.”_ \--

“Patrol Four copies,” a man responded.

“C’mon, let’s hurry it up,” a woman shouted, and the Saviors loaded up in their vehicle.

Their engine turned and they sped off. Daryl and Anna dared to step out from the bushes, and Daryl signaled for the others to hurry across the clearing.

“Best to stay off the roads, head into the woods right there,” he said, looking at her.

She nodded but remained silent. They stood guard as Tara and Rosita ushered everyone across, the younger ones clinging to their parents’ legs. Those who didn’t have parents to cling to followed Mr. Sinclair, who seemed far more confident holding a rifle than he had that day in his basement.

As they walked along through the woods, a burnt walker stumbled around a tree, and Tobin just barely got himself and Judith out of its way.

“I got it,” Tara called.

“I’ll cover you,” Dwight announced, approaching quickly only for Tara to throw the walker at him.

He caught the walker and stumbled back.

“Tara,” Rosita snapped as she, Daryl, and Anna attempted to get a clear shot of the walker.

“What? It got away,” Tara defended, not bothering to help the man. “He can handle it.”

Dwight threw the walker to the ground and stomped its head in a few times until it stopped moving. He gripped his arm, blood seeping through his fingers.

“See?” Tara said, backing away.

“Hey,” Daryl huffed. “Just keep ‘em movin’.”

Like a petulant child, Tara begrudgingly turned and kept the group walking.

“Did you hear them talking on the walkie about Carson and Gabriel?” Rosita asked.

“Yeah. Probably heading to Hilltop, same as us,” Daryl said.

Anna pressed her lips together as another walker fumbled toward them. With her stick, Anna took it out with ease.

“Hopefully better than us,” Jessie said before they moved on.

* * *

Anna and Daryl walked beside each other, their eyes scanning the woods for threats. She had wanted to talk to Daryl, but she couldn’t find the words, and she decided to begin circling again.

“Hey, guys,” Rosita called out.

They stopped and turned to see that only Jessie, Rosita, Tara, and Dwight were behind them.

“Where are they?” Daryl asked.

“They needed rest,” Jessie said from beside Rosita. “They’re exhausted. They haven’t slept.”

“All right, ten minutes,” Daryl scoffed. “Then we keep goin’. I’m gonna go back, cover our tracks.”

“I’ll go with you,” Anna said, and they started off.

“I have a question,” Tara said before they could leave. “Is there a reason why he’s still breathing?”

“Fight ain’t over,” Daryl said.

“It is for him,” Tara said firmly. “I’m done waiting.”

“Yeah, we’ve gathered,” Anna sneered.

Tara shot her a glare.

“Not now. Not yet,” Daryl said, pulling the attention to him before he walked off, gesturing for Anna to follow him.

They made their way around the group and picked up their tracks quickly, taking extra care not to make more tracks while covering the group’s. The two were quiet for the most part, but Anna wanted desperately to say something.

“We shouldn’t go too far,” she said, though it wasn’t what she wanted to say.

Daryl nodded, and they continued on a little bit longer before they were satisfied and finally started back to the group.

“Daryl,” she said, and they stopped.

He waited for her to go on, his back still to her, but she wasn’t sure of what she wanted to say. Daryl hadn’t apologized to her, and she didn’t exactly expect him to, but it made it hard to forgive him.

She shook her head and sighed, reminding herself that there wasn’t enough time for eventually.

“What you and Tara did,” Anna began, trying to find the words as she went. “I—”

“We should’ve waited,” Daryl interrupted. “You were right.”

Anna blinked at him.

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, and we can’t take any of it back,” she said. “All we can do now is move forward and make sure we win.”

“What I said… actin’ like you didn’t get it,” Daryl said, turning to face her but not looking at her. “You probably get it more than anyone else.”

Anna bowed her head.

“We should get back,” Daryl said.

Anna nodded, and the conversation was over.

* * *

“They’ll have these passes covered,” Anna said, pointing out said passes on the map.

It was all that separated them from where they were and Hilltop. Anna, Jessie, Rosita, Daryl, and Tara were gathered around the map Anna had kept in her satchel, Daryl crouched to her right, Rosita and Jessie to her left and Tara across from her.

“If they’re smart,” Daryl added.

Anna shook her head. She didn’t believe in underestimating her opponent. That was a stupid mistake to make for anyone.

“We have to keep moving,” Rosita said.

“We’ll just have to risk it,” Jessie agreed.

“Maybe you don’t have to,” Dwight said, coming around the tree he’d been eavesdropping behind.

Tara closed her eyes irritably, and Daryl straightened.

“Negan won’t send his people down into this stretch of swamp,” Dwight said, pointing out the area. “Not if he doesn’t have to.”

“Yeah? How do you know that?” Tara asked.

Anna ground her teeth, shooting a glare at her. Tara had been getting on her nerves ever since she and Daryl had returned from Sanctuary, so sure their plan had worked and Anna’s was a waste of time. But she needed to rein in her hurt feelings and focus on getting everyone to Hilltop.

“Negan wanted to map the best routes with cover from Sanctuary to Hilltop,” Dwight explained. “He—He decided the swamp was too dangerous. Didn’t think it was worth the risk.”

Anna tapped her fingers against the map. She looked between Daryl and Rosita. Tara got to her feet and frowned at them.

“You aren’t seriously gonna listen to him,” Tara said, incredulous, but they remained silent. “It’s too dangerous for the Saviors, so you’re gonna send us? Are you kidding me?” She scoffed.

“They have us boxed in,” Jessie reasoned.

“Tara has a point,” Tobin called. “Why should we trust him?”

“He could turn on us like he turned on his own people,” Scott agreed.

“I didn’t just turn on ‘em,” Dwight corrected. “I killed ‘em. Daryl saw it. Rosita saw it. Anna saw it. Jessie saw it.” He looked to Tara. “You saw it. But one of them got away. So, if they find me, Negan puts my head on a pike. I’m not working for them, and I’m not going back to them. I chose my side. This is it. I’m here to help you beat Negan. After that—” he sighed and chuckled. “Well, I know how it ends.”

Anna gathered the map and folded it, putting it into her satchel as she stood. She and Daryl looked to each other and nodded.

“All right,” he said. “We try the swamps.”

* * *

They surveyed the swamp as Daryl killed a walker with a single bolt to the face. The thing had clearly been marinating for some time, its decay sped up by the thick water.

“We have to be careful,” Rosita said, poking around for a long stick to use for wading through the swamp. “But we can do this.”

“We’ll push through and clear a path for the others,” Jessie said.

“Count me in,” Scott declared, pulling his knife.

“I’ll go,” Siddiq said, joining them.

“If I can have the crossbow—” Dwight started.

“You can’t,” Daryl snapped. “You’ll stay right there.”

“You coming?” Rosita asked Tara, who was eyeing Dwight.

Tara turned her head to look at Rosita.

“I’m gonna hang back, watch over the group,” she said before blatantly looking back at Dwight.

“Come on. Let’s get this done,” Daryl called.

Anna shook her head and dropped her satchel to the ground, careful not to let Carl’s hat fall out, pulling her stick and knife before wading into the waters with Rosita. Everyone else paired off as well; Jessie with Scott, and Siddiq with Daryl.

They used their sticks to poke around at the bottom of the swamp to maintain their footing. As Rosita stepped forward, a walker emerged from the water and grabbed at her. She made quick work of it.

“You good?” Anna asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

They were quiet for a few minutes, focusing on their task.

“What Tara said about your plan,” Rosita began. “She was wrong. It was going to work. We just needed to wait. It’s just… sometimes, we can’t wait.”

“Yeah,” Anna muttered.

“You’re not going to be pissed at them forever,” Rosita said, almost sagely.

“What’s done is done,” Anna said, putting down another walker. “Can’t go back now. We just have to focus on getting to Hilltop. We can deal with everything else later.”

No one said anything for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about the kid,” Rosita said, breaking the silence again. “I know you were close with him.”

Anna’s chest constricted painfully. She hadn’t wanted to think about Carl—at least not until they reached Hilltop. She wanted to focus solely on getting the Alexandrians to safety.

“He didn’t deserve to go out like that,” Rosita sighed.

“He didn’t deserve to go out at all,” Anna corrected. “I don’t trust Tara alone with Dwight,” she said, changing the subject. The last thing she wanted right then was to start crying.

“Neither do I,” Rosita agreed, seeming to take the hint. “Maybe one of us should go check on them,” she suggested.

“Might be better if you did,” Anna said. “I’m very close to hitting Tara.”

Rosita shook her head, smirking. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

She turned and started back to shore, leaving Anna to cross the swamp alone. Now that Rosita had brought Carl to the forefront of her mind, Anna couldn’t stop thinking about him.

There were so many things she wished she had said or done when she had the chance. She wished she had thanked him, told him how much she loved him. But now he was gone and the eventuality of those conversations was, too.

A few tears slipped down her cheeks and she paused, wiping them away.

“Damn it,” she hissed when the tears continued flowing.

A walker launched itself from the waters, forcing Anna to stumble back. She brought her stick in between them, but was unable to whip it around when one end became caught on the mud at the bottom of the swamp.

“Shit,” she snapped, taking another step back to brandish her knife.

The walker advanced on her, its movements slowed by the mud suctioning both of their feet. She went to step forward, but her left foot wouldn’t budge. She was caught.

As she attempted to tear her foot from the mud, the walker fell on top of her, gripping her shoulders as it snapped at her face. She grunted, dropping her stick to hold the corpse at bay. Finally, she managed to stab her blade through the walker’s skull and let it fall back into the water.

She panted, watching it bob along the surface. Then she realized she couldn’t see her stick. Yanking her foot free, Anna began frantically feeling around the bottom of the swamp for it.

Her boot bumped against something and she practically dove for it, keeping her head above water. Anna fished with her hands until she found the long, slender stick. She pulled it from the water so forcefully, she stumbled back. Anna wasn’t sure what she would have done if she’d lost the thing.

* * *

“I told you to wait!” Daryl yelled, straining his voice as he got into Tara’s impassive face. “For all we know, he could be tellin’ ‘em everythin’. Negan could be on his way here right now!”

“He isn’t. He won’t,” Tara assured. “He led them away. They were coming right for us, and he saved us.”

Anna held Judith to her, the little girl cowering into Anna’s chest at Daryl’s outburst.

“She’s right,” Rosita confirmed. “He did. I saw it.”

“I don’t give a damn what he did,” Daryl sneered. “He can stick with them, he can come back—hell, he can run. When I find that son of a bitch, I’m gonna—”

Daryl cut himself off when his eyes landed on Anna, who was now rocking Judith to calm her fussing. Anna looked at him patiently. Daryl didn’t yell often, but when he did, it was rather frightening.

“C’mon,” Daryl said, gesturing for the others to get moving as he started toward the swamp.

Anna got to her feet, hoisting Judith up in her arms.

“You okay?” She asked, raising the pitch of her voice a little.

Judith looked back at her.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” she said soothingly.

“I can take her across,” Tobin said, walking up.

He had a gray sling across his body that he’d been using to carry Judith since they’d left Alexandria. He’d done well with her so far, and Anna figured he’d be fine going further. So, she nodded and helped him settle Judith into the sash, making sure she was secure before stepping back.

As she tied a knot in her satchel’s strap to make it shorter so as not to get Carl’s hat dirty, Anna looked around at the other children being picked up, too short not to be carried across. She took up her stick and gathered everyone who had not already begun to cross around her.

“Jessie, Andy. I want you two with guns behind us just in case,” she instructed, and the two nodded. “Everyone else, follow me. Go where I go and you’ll be fine.”

Anna waded into the waters, using her stick to check the ground, careful not to lose it again, before moving forward, just like before. Only this time, she wasn’t just checking for herself, but for the people—the parents and the children they carried—she was leading across.

She glanced down at the brown hat sticking out of her satchel. It suddenly seemed so heavy, and she felt as though she were carrying Carl across, too.

* * *

They made it across the swamp without incident and let their clothes and sloshing boots dry as they continued their march to Hilltop. Anna felt an enormous sense of relief when its walls came into view. Had she not been so exhausted, she may have run for the gate. But as it was, she used her stick for support as she walked beside Daryl, who now carried Judith.

The gates opened and the Alexandrians filtered through. Carol came running from behind the blacksmith, an excited grin on her face that quickly faded at their haggard appearances. Enid came running up behind her, followed by Maggie, Jesus, and Emma.

“Carl,” Daryl said, shaking his head. “He—” He looked away, unable to finish.

A strangled sob erupted from Enid, and she covered her mouth, quickly succumbing to her anguish and falling to her knees. Maggie wrapped her arms around the teen.

“Come on,” Emma said quietly, gesturing for all of them to follow her. “Let’s get you guys settled.”

Anna and the others followed Emma further into Hilltop, but she couldn’t quite drown out Enid’s pain.


	10. Chapter Nine

Isaac drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Simon stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. They’d been in these positions for the past ten minutes while Simon recounted everything that had happened in the past few days—despite Isaac being there for most of it.

“Am I overreacting here?” Simon asked.

“I think your reaction is reasonable, given the circumstances,” Isaac said. “But Negan is in charge. What he says goes.”

Simon nodded, wiping at his face.

Ever since Isaac had joined up with the Saviors and been assigned to Simon’s crew, he had quickly become the man’s closest confidant—not without considerable effort, of course. Isaac knew that if he was going to have any chance of getting close to Negan, he would need to start with Simon. And so, the uphill battle began. He indulged Simon’s frustrations and lent an understanding ear, careful not to nudge him too far. Not before it was time.

“Alexandria, Hilltop, the Kingdom—we need to set an example for future business transactions,” Simon said. “You agree?”

“Of course, I agree,” Isaac said. “People can’t get the wrong idea about what it is we do here.”

“And yet, Negan has us sitting on our asses, twiddling our thumbs while Alexandria gets away, and Hilltop just continues on like nothing ever happened—minus a mouth to feed,” Simon ground out. “This is not setting a very good precedent.”

“And then there’s the trash people,” Isaac commented.

The trash people had come to Sanctuary, armed and following Rick Grimes, clearly having reneged on their deal. Unfortunately for Rick Grimes and company, Sanctuary had already taken care of the walkers Anna had set on them.

The thought of Anna set Isaac on edge. She’d been clever in her plan; he was certain it would have worked had it not been for the garbage truck currently embedded in the side of the building, and Eugene. He was also sure that she had something to do with Alexandria’s escape.

“I should talk to him,” Simon said, bringing Isaac back to the conversation.

“It wouldn’t hurt. After all,” Isaac said, getting to his feet and patting Simon on the shoulder. “You’re his right-hand guy.”

A knock at the door called their attention.

“Come in,” Isaac called.

Gary opened the door and leaned in.

“Negan wants to see you, Simon,” he informed.

Simon huffed and nodded before turning to Isaac.

“Thank you for your wise counsel,” he said, patting Isaac on the arm before he walked out of the room.

Isaac shook his head and started down to the stairs, shutting his door behind him. Gary followed as they went down to floor level where the rest of the Satellite crew was gathered, aside from a few others who had gone out to get the trucks together.

“All right. Simon’s talking to the big man, then we’ll head out,” Isaac announced.

“What are we going to do about these assholes?” One man, who Isaac had never bothered learning the name of, asked.

“Whatever Negan tells us to do,” Isaac said simply.

“Isaac!”

He turned to see the three who were gathering the trucks walking inside carrying a familiar wooden box. It was the same one they’d left with Maggie last night. Groans and a struggle came from within, making it difficult for the men to hold it.

“Hand me that nail gun over there. Is it charged?” Isaac asked, gesturing to the nail gun sitting on the table.

Gary handed him the nail gun and Isaac approached the box, spotting some writing on the cover.

_We have 38 more. Stand down._

“Let’s take this to Negan. He’ll want to see it,” Isaac said, forcing himself not to smirk.

Gary looked at him, more than a little confused. Isaac ignored him and led the men up the stairs and to the conference room, where he knew Negan and Simon would be. He knocked.

“Yeah?” Negan called after a moment.

Isaac pushed the door open and made room for the others to set the coffin on the table as he put down the nail gun.

“What the hell is that?” Negan asked as Simon got to his feet.

“A delivery from the Hilltop,” Isaac explained. “Brought you something to deal with it. It’s charged.”

“Out,” Negan said as he stood. “Except you, Isaac.”

Gary and the other two left the room, shutting the door behind them as Negan picked up the nail gun. He read the lid before looking at Simon, who pulled his knife. Isaac helped him pull the lid free of its bindings, the walker within attempting to force its way out.

“Little bit more,” Negan said, and they pushed the lid further off.

Negan immediately began firing nails into the walker's skull, and Isaac recognized him as one of theirs from the Satellite outpost.

“That’s Shaw,” Simon said. “That means the other thirty-eight that the Hilltop is holding are from the Satellite Outpost. Those are my people. I’m gonna kill every last one of those farmers!”

“You will do exactly what I asked,” Negan corrected.

“We can’t let ‘em get away with this shit,” Simon snapped just before Negan slammed Lucille against the table.

“You will do your job,” Negan shouted.

Simon shifted on his feet, clicking his teeth and glancing between Isaac, Shaw’s corpse, and Negan before nodding.

“All right, get to it,” Negan said, shooing Simon off. “Isaac, I have a job for you.”

* * *

Isaac watched as Eugene examined the equipment meticulously, commenting here and there about the quality and cleanliness until he stopped in the middle of the work floor and turned to Isaac.

“This will be satisfactory,” he said, his face expressionless.

Isaac nodded and gestured for Eugene’s workers and soldiers to take up their stations. They carted in the buckets and bins filled with bullet casings. Eugene set to work on sorting them before he walked up to Isaac.

“So, you’re the head of my security detail?” Eugene asked.

“No. I was just supposed to get you set up, then head back to HQ,” Isaac said as he pointed out Regina. “Regina over there will be your head of security.”

“Then I suppose I no longer require your services,” Eugene said, giving a single nod. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Isaac cocked a brow at him and turned to leave before a question came to mind and he looked back at him.

“I spoke with Gabriel—before he decided to leave us,” Isaac began.

Eugene stiffened.

“Is that so?” The portly man asked.

“He said there was a woman in charge of the plan that had us on the ropes,” Isaac said carefully. “Someone named Anna?”

“I am aware of Anna,” Eugene said.

“Do you think she’ll try something else?” Isaac asked.

“Given the nature of her stubbornness—that is, down right—it is within the realm of possibilities that she will attempt another strategy to have us, as you said, on the ropes,” Eugene rambled. “Anna Wycoff is not the type to give in easily.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to outsmart her,” Isaac said, grinning. “You think that’s possible?”

“Well,” Eugene grimaced. “As Negan has demonstrated, he is an adept strategist—however, Anna spent roughly seven months training with the military, and I am certain that training involved wartime strategy. My hypothesis is that, while it is possible, it will take a hell of a lot of foresight.”

Isaac’s brows shot up as he stared at Eugene.

_Military?_

That had to have been after their time together. He supposed it was plausible that those soldiers who had attacked them would take her in after seeing the state of her. He shook his head, pulling himself from his thoughts.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re on our side,” Isaac said, patting Eugene on the shoulder before walking away.

* * *

Isaac pulled the car into the depot, parking just as Simon pulled in behind him in the moving truck. They climbed out of their respective vehicles and stood together as Negan joined them.

“Got it done?” Negan asked as Gary hurried away.

“That and then some,” Simon assured.

The three walked to the back of the truck as Gary opened the door.

“You good?” Simon asked.

“Nothing on Gavin,” Negan sighed.

“Want us to turn back around, roll out, end the mystery?” Simon offered.

“I already sent a team out there,” Negan said.

“Ah,” Simon mused, nodding his head. “Well, I’m sure he’s A-okay. And if not, we’ll just send another message.”

“So, tell me how it went,” Negan requested, choosing to ignore the underhanded comment.

“Standard message and delivery,” he said, shrugging. “Showed ‘em and told ‘em. There was remorse.”

“Negan.”

They turned to see D.J. walking up.

“Yeah. What is it?” Negan asked.

“It’s Rick,” D.J. said, holding up the long-range walkie.

Negan glanced between Simon and Isaac before taking the walkie and walking off. Gary and D.J. began unloading the truck and Simon gestured for Isaac to follow him.

“So, what really happened?” Isaac asked knowingly.

“The garbage people won’t be a problem anymore,” Simon said, looking around to be sure no one was listening.

“Simon,” Isaac said, frowning at him.

“They’re all dead. All of ‘em,” he said, looking him in the eye.

Isaac blinked at him, unsure if he should believe what he was hearing. He didn’t believe in luck, but sometimes things just happened so perfectly he couldn’t quite deny its existence—like the time he’d managed to survive a bullet from close range; he’d come across a guy with medical know-how who could patch him up. Now, Simon was openly admitting to defying Negan? It was like Christmas.

He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, to convince Simon that what he’d done was the right thing, but Negan interrupted them.

“Isaac,” Negan said, walking up to them. “Making an unexpected delivery to the bullet factory. You’re driving.”

Isaac nodded, and started toward the car as a sweating father Gabriel was ushered into the backseat. He could feel Simon’s eyes on his back, but he knew the man trusted him not to say anything to Negan.

* * *

Following Negan through the building to the work floor, Isaac led Gabriel by the arm as he stumbled on unsure feet. Negan threw the double doors open and the workers, soldiers, and Negan’s red-headed wife immediately fell to their knees.

“Lookie what I found,” he said, laughing. “And he told me a very interesting story about how he made his way out of our lovely home.”

Eugene stood, putting his protective glasses in his blue coat as Negan made his way over. Isaac sat Gabriel down at an empty sorting station.

“It was Carson,” Gabriel said weakly.

“Did I call it or what?” Negan grinned.

“I am agog,” Eugene said, staring at Gabriel. “But why bring him here?”

“Well, you need an extra set of hands to sort out those bullet casings, right?” Negan asked. “Apparently, his eyes don’t work for shit, but he does have a set of hands.”

“We’ll see if it helps,” Eugene huffed. “I only have a few bullets as it is—quality munitions, but the quantity is full-on scant. It’s still gonna be a few more days before we have any sort of supply to speak of.”

Negan inhaled and sucked on his teeth as he frowned at Eugene’s news.

“See, Eugene…,” Negan began as Isaac approached, “that simply doesn’t work for me.”

“I think a more biblical approach for maximum fright may be in order,” Eugene suggested. “We could rig several medieval-style catapults, start launching undead arms, legs, torsos over their defenses. Maybe heads or, you know, big piles of guts. You know, pure psych-ops. I mean, there’s some really traumatic theatrics there.”

Negan stared at him for a moment, tongue-in-cheek as he shot a glance at Isaac.

“Thank you,” he said, looking back to Eugene. “I do believe a rose just sprang out of that pile of shit. Let’s roll,” Negan called. “Big day tomorrow.”

He chuckled and started back outside, whistling as he went. Isaac nodded at Eugene before following after him. The two climbed back inside the car and Isaac steered them toward Sanctuary.

Isaac drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, hoping Negan would notice his apparent nerves.

“You gonna talk, or are you just gonna sit there pissin’ your pants the whole way back?” Negan asked, not bothering to look over from the window.

Isaac huffed a nervous sort of laugh before taking a deep breath.

“It’s about Simon,” he started.

“What about Simon?” Negan asked, finally turning to look at him.

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you—”

“Cut to the chase, Isaac,” Negan snapped.

“Simon killed the trash people,” Isaac rushed out. “He told me before you and I left for the factory.”

Negan was quiet for a long time, facing forward and glaring out the front window.

“And why are you just telling me this now?” He asked.

“I wanted to give Simon a chance to come clean—he’s my friend, you know? But,” Isaac shook his head. “I realize he’s not going to admit to what he did.”

Negan fell silent again, nodding as the gears turned in his head.

“We’re going to pretend that you didn’t tell me a damn thing, got it?” He said.

“What are you going to do?” Isaac asked, glancing at Negan only briefly before putting his eyes back on the road.

“Oh, I’ve got plans. Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” Negan said, grinning.

Isaac nodded, doing his best to keep the satisfied smirk off his face.

* * *

Standing at the front of the crowd of soldiers, Isaac leaned against a wall with Simon beside him, watching Negan walk back and forth in front of three walkers chained to the fence. They reached out and snarled for the food just out of reach.

“You all know how it works,” Negan finally began, facing the crowd. “You get a bite, some kind of wound from one of these things, something from them gets in you, and you die. You join the club…, which sucks.” He began pacing again. “What if we could use that to our advantage?”

He swung around, and whipped his bat across one walker's face, then against the shoulder before jabbing it in the diaphragm. Blood seeped out of its wounds. Negan pressed Lucille against the wounds, rubbing the wood and barbs into the walker’s flesh.

“Ah, you see how Lucille is getting to know our beautiful, cold friend here?” He asked, pulling the bat away to rub it into the walker’s diaphragm. “That’s it,” he chuckled, turning back to them.

He held Lucille out for them to see, blood and gore hanging off of the barbs in a familiar way. A deep frown settled over Isaac’s face.

“Look… at… that,” Negan said. “No more smashin’ and bashin’. With this—Well, this, it can just be a touch. Or a big, wet kiss. Either way, this gets you full membership, and that’s what we want. We want people to join the club,” he cheered. “Hilltop is gonna learn to toe the line one way or another, dead or alive… or some kinda shit in between.”

Isaac had to operate under the assumption that Anna still had someone on the inside feeding her information. He had to assume she was going to know about this plan. But what he couldn’t fathom was a way she could possibly circumvent this. One thing was for certain—he needed the war to keep going.

_Your friends better keep fighting, Annie._


	11. Chapter Ten

“It’s Rick Grimes!”

Anna—holding Judith on her hip—and Daryl stood in the shade of the blacksmith’s awning just behind Maggie, Enid, Rosita, and Jerry as they watched the front gates open. Michonne and Rick walked through, looking disheveled and tired. Rick had never looked so old.

Michonne went to Maggie and hugged her while Rick stared off to the left, no doubt at the prisoner’s paddock. Anna had had mixed feelings about the prisoners. She felt a certain kind of hatred for them, for what had happened, but she knew overcoming that was a necessary step to what came after the fighting was over. For both sides.

Finally, Rick started toward Anna.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said as she handed the little girl over.

He nodded to Anna, then looked to Daryl and nodded to him. His way of saying thank you.

Balancing Judith in one arm, Rick reached into his back pocket and held out two folded pieces of paper to Anna. She accepted them, recognizing them as what Carl had handed to Michonne back in the sewer. Quietly, Rick and Michonne started toward the house.

Anna looked to the papers and saw her and Enid’s names written on the front in Carl’s terrible chicken scratch. She looked up to see the teen staring between her and the papers. Anna handed Enid her letter and the teen walked away.

She looked at her own letter and considered reading it. She knew she needed to. Instead, she tucked it into her back pocket, knowing she wasn’t quite ready. Anna looked over to see Daryl watching her.

“I’ll read it later,” she said, and he nodded.

“I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” he said, brushing his hand against hers as he walked past.

Anna brushed her hair away from her face and took a deep breath, listening to the clang of metal on metal as the blacksmith, Earl, worked. She looked over to see him working on a spearhead.

Without much thought, Anna went up to the perch near the front gate and peered out over the walls. She tapped her fingers against the wood frame, pursing her lips as her mind ricocheted on the possibilities of what was going to happen next.

They had no way to contact Dwight to find out what Negan was planning, but she had no doubt in her mind that they’d be headed for Hilltop. Maggie had already set up lookouts every half-mile between the Hilltop and the city limits. It wasn’t a question of if the Saviors attacked, but when. And when they did, Hilltop would be ready. They had to be.

* * *

Daryl had left to join the lookouts. Maggie and Rosita joined Anna on the perch after a while and the three watched as Rick took a sedan and left Hilltop to join the lookouts as well.

“Think he’ll come back from this?” Maggie asked.

“Have you come back?” Rosita countered.

The women looked at each other and Rosita shrugged.

“I just keep going,” Rosita said.

Maggie, Anna, and Rosita turned to look back at the house where Enid and Michonne lingered on the front steps, Enid reading her letter from Carl, and Michonne holding Carl’s hat.

“Yeah,” Maggie said, as they returned to watching over the walls. “They will, too.”

“It’ll be harder after we finish this,” Rosita said. “When it’s quiet.”

Anna nodded in agreement, scanning the horizon.

“Not if Negan’s dead,” Maggie corrected. “Not for me, at least.”

“Not for me, either,” Rosita agreed.

Anna pondered that for a moment, wondering if Negan and Isaac’s deaths would stop the nightmares and the pain. If killing Dwight would actually make Daryl and Tara feel better. If killing was going to make the guilt go away. How could she have let Carl get bitten?

Maggie furrowed her brow and looked through her binoculars.

“What is it?” Anna asked.

“There’s something out there that wasn’t there before,” Maggie said, pointing toward the object in question as she handed Anna the binoculars.

Anna looked through it and found what she was talking about—four black crates with a plastic bag tied to a stick acting as some sort of flag.

“I’ll go check it out,” Anna said, passing back the binoculars and climbing down from the perch, followed by Rosita and Maggie.

“I’ll go with you,” Rosita said.

The two took a truck and drove it out to the crates. They scanned the area for any signs of a trap before Anna spotted the piece of paper in a ziploc bag at the bottom of one of the crates.

Frowning, she picked it out and read the note.

_If you fill the crates with food or phonograph records, I will gladly exchange them for a key to your future._

At the bottom were coordinates to what had to be a meeting spot. Anna flipped it over to check for more information, but that was it.

“Let’s load these up and take them in,” Rosita said, picking up two of the empty crates.

Anna nodded and grabbed the other two. They loaded the crates into the back of the truck and hurried back inside where Enid, Michonne, and Emma had joined Maggie. Rosita and Anna climbed out of the truck and Anna handed the note to Maggie.

“I don’t know,” Anna huffed before Maggie read the note aloud. “It lists coordinates for our meeting spot,” she shrugged.

Maggie passed the note to Michonne and looked inside the crates.

“This isn’t the Saviors,” Michonne said. “They’d blow through the gates, make a big show. This isn’t that.”

“I wouldn’t put nothin’ past ‘em,” Maggie said.

“Well, if it is a trap, it’s kind of obvious,” Rosita said, hands on her hips.

“Which is what could make it a trap,” Maggie said, starting toward the house.

“What if—” Michonne started and Maggie turned back. “What if it’s someone who actually wants to help?”

“If someone is trying to help us and we miss out, we miss out,” Maggie shrugged. “If somebody’s trying to kill us, we die.”

“Not if we’re careful,” Anna said.

“Being careful is staying here,” Enid snapped, and Anna shot her a look.

“I’ll go,” Michonne offered. “I’ll see what’s up.”

“You go, I go,” Rosita said.

“Me, too,” Anna agreed.

“And me,” Emma added.

“Rick wants us here,” Enid warned.

“I know,” Michonne said. “But the last time we took a chance like this, it changed everything. Rick didn’t agree with me then. He may not understand me now.”

“He won’t,” Maggie said.

“But eventually, he will,” Michonne assured. “He will.”

“Jesus and the others have been scavenging, and we’re still starving,” Maggie sighed. “Maybe this person does have something that can help.”

“Then, I’m coming with you,” Enid insisted.

“Okay,” Maggie said. “I’ll grab records, in case this is real,” Maggie informed, checking her gun’s clip before looking to Enid. “You get extra clips in case it isn’t.”

Anna smirked and started toward the house to find her map. Finally, a good distraction.

* * *

* * *

The convoy made its way through an alley, wanting to avoid any unnecessary delays on their way to Hilltop. There wasn’t much to look at and so, Isaac leaned back in his seat and gazed out the front window at the license plate of the truck in front of them, wondering how a truck from Wisconsin had ended up in Virginia.

Then again, he’d come all the way from Georgia, and back there, he’d teamed up with people from all over. He supposed people were like animals that way. Migrating from place to place in search of food and safety or some vague idea of hope. It was all a pipe dream—one he didn’t waste his time on.

A jarring _BANG_ of metal against metal startled Isaac out of his thoughts and he sat up, looking for the source of the noise. He looked through Simon’s side mirror, but saw nothing at his angle. Simon screeched the truck to a halt and Isaac braced himself against the dashboard.

\-- _“The hell was that?”_ \-- Arat asked over the walkie.

“That was Negan’s car,” Dwight said, out of breath.

“Jesus, it was,” Simon concurred.

Isaac brushed his hair back, irritated that it had fallen in his face.

“You see it?” Dwight asked.

“Yeah, someone pegged him—pegged him good,” Simon said as he pulled the truck backward. “Looked like just one guy from what I could tell.”

\-- _“Anyone see which way he went?”_ \-- Arat asked.

“What are you doing?” Isaac asked, furrowing his brow at Simon as he maneuvered the truck to block off the alley.

“Just tell ‘em to pipe down,” Simon snapped. “Stay icy. May be more of ‘em out there.”

“Keep your guards up, scan your lane,” Dwight ordered through the walkie. “We could have company.”

Simon parked the truck and the three grabbed their weapons before climbing out. As they did so, the rest of the convoy climbed out of their own vehicles and started toward them, ready to start the search and defense of Negan.

“Whoa, stand down,” Simon called, and they stilled. “No runnin’ off without a plan. Car hit Negan’s, pushed him off the road. They headed that way. Couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Then, what are we waiting for?” Arat demanded.

“It was just one driver,” Simon sighed. “It’s nothin’ Negan can’t handle on his own. But just in case, Dwight, Isaac, and I will go check it out.”

“All right, we can back you up and—” Arat began.

“No,” Simon cut her off. “This might be a ploy to divide our forces, and we’re not gonna let that happen, not when we’re so close to the master stroke. I turned my truck to make sure no one comes in this way,” he said, pointing at his handiwork. “Gary, I want you to do the same down that end. You’re in charge. Keep everyone in tight, create a perimeter, cut down anything that comes close,” he instructed Arat before turning to Isaac and Dwight. “Shall we locate our benefactor?”

* * *

* * *

Maggie sent Rosita and Emma into the woods to cover their flanks as she, Anna, Michonne, and Enid drove the truck to the coordinates that Anna located on her map. Parked in the middle of the crossroad was a raised, gray van with two lanky figures standing guard.

Anna pulled them to a stop.

“Okay,” Michonne said.

The four of them climbed out of the truck and drew their guns as they approached, stopping ten feet away.

One of the women pulled open the van, and a white-haired woman in a gray pantsuit climbed out. She grinned at them, her smile pushing up her round glasses.

“My name is Georgie,” the woman introduced, gesturing to herself and then to her companions. “These are my friends, Hilda and Midge. And you are?”

They stared at her in silence. Anna wasn’t quite sure what to make of the three.

“Suspicious,” Georgie nodded. “But curious enough to see what I have to offer for food and music. I do hope the records are music. I don’t accept spoken word. If you’re out here, you know you can take care of yourselves, and I like that. I don’t care to share this with the weak.”

“Good,” Maggie said, and Rosita and Emma appeared around the van, guns aimed at Hilda and Midge.

Enid, Maggie, and Anna raised their guns as well.

“Enid,” Maggie called. “Anna.”

The teen tucked her gun in its holster and patted down Midge, taking the woman’s gun. Rosita did the same to Hilda and Anna approached Georgie.

“None for me,” Georgie said, raising her hand to shoo Anna away.

Anna rolled her eyes and patted the woman down, finding that she had no weapons. She stepped back to the others.

“Give us what you have,” Maggie ordered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Georgie said, bridging her fingers together in front of her. “I come bearing knowledge to trade—essential knowledge for the future, primarily in my head,” she said, tapping her forehead, “and, uh, I prefer to keep that where it is.”

“You’re trading knowledge,” Michonne repeated.

“That’s what I have,” Georgie said. “I’ve made the same offer before—fill the crates, get the knowledge—simple as that. It’s not a trick, just a fair trade. I promise you.”

“It’s an act of benevolence,” Hilda said, arms crossed over her chest and eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses.

“Why would you do that?” Maggie asked, not lowering her gun.

“What else should I do?” Georgie asked, as if anything else hadn’t crossed her mind.

“Rosita,” Maggie signaled.

Rosita moved to the back of the van and pulled the doors open.

“What’s in there isn’t part of the deal,” Georgie said.

“There is no deal,” Maggie said, lowering her gun.

“How many communities have you found?” Anna asked, furrowing her brow as Rosita returned to aiming at Hilda.

“Communities like yours?” Georgie asked. “Not many at all. And not one for a very long time. What you have is special, unusual. The dead have brought out our best and worst, and the worst has been outpacing the best lately, but that won’t last forever.”

“It won’t,” Midge affirmed, peering over her sunglasses.

“If, perhaps, people can believe in people again, four crates of goods is worth far less than a sustainable future, and perhaps an exercise in trust,” Georgie implored. “I know— “trust” probably sounds like a made-up word now, like flibberschticky.”

“Or klompf,” Hilda added.

“Or moisture,” Midge concluded.

Anna frowned, and Georgie turned to Midge, appalled.

“Stop,” Enid snapped. “This isn’t real. No way anyone survives going around doing what you say you’re doing.”

“But we do,” Georgie countered. “And we will, because I can divine that you are a fine group, manners notwithstanding.”

Michonne walked up to Maggie.

“We can make a deal,” she said, only loud enough for Maggie and Anna to hear.

“No,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “These people and their van are comin’ with us back to Hilltop,” she declared.

Anna pressed her lips together, unsure of where she stood on the situation. Perhaps this would give them more time to discuss their options.

* * *

* * *

“You must’ve thought about it, clippin’ him yourself,” Simon said after a long silent walk through the streets.

“You mean when he took my wife?” Dwight asked as they paused in their walk. “Or burned my face? No. Never thought about that. Not once,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm before he started walking again.

“But you didn’t, because you chose to survive instead of focusing on past discomforts,” Simon said. “You’re an adult. You did what you had to, to live. And yet, our leader is not doing the same. If it was my call… we’d say enough. We’d branch out, we’d find new places, we’d make new relationships. We’d make sure the Saviors survive, as you chose to. As Isaac chose to. And we’d move on from past discomforts as you… wisely chose to.”

Dwight scoffed, chuckling as he took a step back.

“Well, here I am, my nuts blowin’ in the breeze, naked as a jaybird,” Simon said. “What do you say?”

“Just move on?” Dwight asked.

“Just move on,” Simon affirmed before starting their walk again.

Isaac and Dwight fell behind a few paces, just out of Simon’s earshot.

“You okay with what he’s proposing?” Dwight asked.

“I—”

“Holy hell,” Simon said, cutting Isaac off.

They jogged to catch up and rounded the corner of a building to see Negan’s car flipped onto its side, fuel leaking into a puddle around it. They approached cautiously and peered through the open back window. Blood was smeared across the windshield and bullet holes riddled the frame.

“Could be his,” Simon said, referring to the blood.

“Or the bucket he brought with him,” Isaac suggested.

“He could be anywhere, alive or dead,” Simon went on. “Somewhere in between. Just ‘cause he walked away doesn’t mean he’s breathing. We can keep looking, maybe find him more alive than dead, but then what?” Simon asked. “We could face a distasteful moment. Or we could walk away. Get back to our people and make things even better. This is a critical point in our history, Dwight, Isaac,” he said, looking between the two. “This is something we could tell our grandkids about.”

Dwight pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and put one between his lips, lighting it and taking a drag. Isaac watched as Dwight exhaled the smoke and took another pull before he flicked the cigarette toward the car. It arched in the air, cartwheeling into the fuel puddle and an eruption of flame engulfed the car.

“Good answer,” Simon said, walking away.

Dwight walked after him, and Isaac stared into the flames. Not the way he had expected things to go, but a hurdle jumped was a hurdle jumped. Assuming Negan was really dead.

* * *

* * *

“The handoff horn started up but no confirmation hits. Saviors could’ve slowed their roll. Let ‘em. We’ll slow ‘em down more,” Jerry explained.

His face was still dotted with bruises and scrapes, yet he grinned.

“That’s good,” Maggie said. “Be dark soon. Get people ready. You know what to do.”

Jerry nodded and left, passing Michonne on the way out. Anna crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her lips together.

“We should make the deal and let them go before the Saviors get here,” Michonne said the moment she was through the door.

“I can’t let her go, not with what they have,” Maggie said. “I got too many mouths to feed. They have crates of food in that van. People here could be starving soon.”

Michonne turned to Anna, as if to ask for her opinion, when Enid appeared, gun still in hand.

“Maggie’s right,” she said, and they turned to her. “We take their stuff. Otherwise someone else will. Someone else will kill them. It’s a miracle they’re still alive, anyways.”

She walked forward to speak directly to Michonne.

“The Saviors are on their way. We’re gonna fight, and some of us will die, so why should we give a shit about people who don’t give a shit about themselves?” Enid asked, her voice raising. “I mean, out there, living like that? We take their stuff, and we use it. We stop pretending that things just work out. They don’t.”

“Carl and Anna rescued Siddiq, and now we have a doctor, and we have a friend,” Michonne said patiently before glancing down and gently taking Enid’s gun. “Carl was brave.”

“And now he’s dead,” Enid said, tears in her eyes and voice breaking.

Michonne stared at her for a moment, her face unreadable.

“Step back,” she said quietly.

Enid looked ready to say something more, but she glanced between Anna and Maggie and decided to leave. The door creaked open and shut before anyone said anything.

“Things don’t just work out,” Maggie said.

“No,” Michonne said. “No, they don’t. But I think he knew that. He didn’t give up on who Rick wanted him to be. And we can’t on who he wanted us to be. We can’t.”

And with that, Michonne turned and left. Anna bowed her head and uncrossed her arms.

“Do you think keepin’ them here is a mistake?”

Anna looked up to see Maggie was now staring out the window.

“Georgie and her pals?” Anna asked. “I think keeping them here pulls them into something they have nothing to do with. Something they don’t need to be a part of.”

“So, you think I should make the deal and let them go?” Maggie asked.

“Make the deal or not, you should let them go. But—” Anna sighed heavily. “I think you should make the deal. Assuming everyone is the enemy makes everyone an enemy. We can’t afford to live like that.”

Maggie said and did nothing, seeming to contemplate Anna’s words.

“I’ll let you think,” Anna announced, heading out of the room and out of the house.

Anna cast a glance at Georgie, Hilda, and Midge sitting on a bench in front of the house with Rosita and Emma standing guard. She started around to the back of the house, deciding she needed some time to visit Glenn and Abraham. As she came around the corner, she spotted Enid, sitting in front of Glenn’s grave, holding her knees and crying.

She considered turning back and leaving the girl alone, but she continued toward her and sat down, setting her stick on the ground behind them. They were quiet for a long moment.

“I killed Natania,” Enid said suddenly. “She was out there trying to kill anyone she came across, and we came across her. So, I killed her, and I’m alive. Carl saved someone, and he’s dead.”

Anna took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts.

“How the hell are we supposed to do this?” Enid asked. “Are we supposed to just stop fighting?”

“No,” Anna said, shaking her head. “No, we don’t stop fighting for our future. But… to get to our future, it’s going to take more than just fighting.”

“So, what? We just talk to the Saviors and hope it’ll work out?” Enid asked. “Things don’t just work out that way.”

“Not everything, you’re right. But, if everywhere you look you see enemies, you’re going to live in a very lonely world,” Anna said, brushing her hair out of her face. “It’s hard to tell when you’re supposed to fight and when you’re supposed to wait. Sometimes we don’t get to know until it’s too late, and sometimes the answer is right in front of us.” Anna glanced at Enid. “I think Carl figured that out with Siddiq. And I think he was hoping we’d figure it out, too.”

* * *

Anna leaned against her stick as she, Emma, Rosita, Michonne, and Enid stood on the porch, watching over Georgie, Hilda, and Midge. The sun was starting its descent and Maggie had yet to come out with a decision. Anna was starting to get worried the three wouldn’t be able to leave in time, if at all.

The door opened and Anna glanced over her shoulder to see Maggie stepping out of the house carrying a crate full of records. She made her way off the porch and set the crate down in front of Georgie.

“No spoken word?” Georgie asked.

“I’m agreeing to your deal,” Maggie said instead. “We’ll fill your four crates, then you can go. You’re gonna want that to be sooner than later.”

“I accept,” Georgie said. “But I’m changing the terms.”

Anna tensed, looking between Maggie and Georgie as her grip on her stick tightened.

“This one, no more,” Georgie said quickly. “In addition, you can have a sizable portion of my food stores,” she said, gesturing to Hilda and Midge; they got up and began to unload some boxes from the back of the van. “From the looks of things around here, you need it far more than we do.”

“You’re givin’ us food? In exchange for what?” Maggie asked suspiciously.

“Records, and good faith,” Georgie said simply. “To be clear, this isn’t a gift—it’s a barter. I’ll be back. Maybe not for a while, but I will, and by then, I expect great things.”

She moved to the van and pulled out a stack of pages loosely bound by three metal rings.

“Here… is the aforementioned key to a future. Inside, there are handwritten plans for windmills, watermills, silos, hand-drawn schematics, guides to refining grain, creating lumber, aqueducts—a book of medieval human achievement, so we may have a future from our past,” she said, handing the book to Maggie.

Anna tilted her head to get a better look at it.

“Yes, I know, the originals are in my head, but I made photocopies,” Georgie said, nodding. “Still, it’s been an evolving document since the copy shop.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said after a moment.

“Build this place up,” Georgie said. “I want those other crates filled when I get back—cheeses for Hilda, pickles for Midge.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Maggie assured.

Georgie stepped forward and patted Maggie on the arm.

“You will,” she said softly.

Enid walked off. Anna cast a glance at Michonne, and the woman started after her. Hilda and Midge continued to load up the van as Maggie turned to Anna and Emma.

“Take this,” Maggie said, handing the book to Emma. “I’ll go through it with you later.”

Emma nodded, accepted the book, and started inside. Hilda and Midge finished loading up the van and said their goodbyes before the three climbed in and sped off through the gates.

“You made the right call,” Anna said as she moved to stand in front of Maggie.

“Not everyone can be an enemy, right?” Maggie asked.

Anna nodded, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Without another word on the matter, Anna turned and headed inside, making her way up to her and Daryl’s room. She shut the door and leaned her stick against the nightstand.

Anna sat on the soft bed, pushing herself further onto the bed to sit cross legged against the pillows. She pulled out the piece of paper from her back pocket and looked at her name scrawled across the front. There was no reason to put it off any longer. With a deep breath, she unfolded the paper and began reading.

_Anna,_

_Thank you for helping me be a kid while I still could. For playing video games with me, supporting me, and just being the older sister I never thought I wanted or needed._

_When we lost you at the farm, I didn’t think we’d ever find you again. I kept that Game Boy for as long as I could, even after the batteries died. It’s all I had left of you. And all Daryl had was your journal. I read it when he wasn’t around. Sorry. He never stopped looking for you—even when I said you were dead. I wish I had never stopped, either._

_When I told you what almost happened before Terminus_

Anna sniffed, attempting to keep the tears in. She noticed the way the pen seemed to have pressed harder into the page. That had been a tough conversation. She was just glad those men hadn’t succeeded. But even the pain of ‘almost’ lingers, and he had come to her when they’d been in Alexandria for a little while. It had taken some time, and he’d been embarrassed, but eventually he told her what he’d been unable to talk to Rick or Michonne about.

She shook her head and returned to reading.

_you told me you got it, that you understood the anger and that you still felt it, even after all this time, and you weren’t sure if it was ever going to go away. I know it was hard for you to tell me that, but you made me feel like I wasn’t alone._

_I know you’re going to feel guilty about this. But it isn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just happened. You’ve gone through too much to get to where you are. Don’t give up. I’m asking you and dad, don’t give up. Keep fighting. Everyone’s got to have a chance for what comes after. You told me that and you were right. Please, don’t forget it._

_I love you._

_Carl_


	12. Chapter Eleven

The sky was dark, and everyone was in their positions behind cars and steel barriers strategically placed around the front of the house. There was a line of trucks in front of the porch. Anna and Jessie stood behind the pillars on either side of the front door, a few others similarly tucked behind pillars. Anna leaned back against her pillar, her stick pressing between them and her breath coming out in puffs of steam.

_Assholes are taking their sweet time getting here,_ she thought bitterly as she shivered.

“You ready for this?” Jessie asked, glancing around his own pillar to check on the others.

“Have to be,” Anna shrugged.

“Do you think Negan will take the deal?” Jessie asked.

“Thirty-eight of his people?” Anna began. “I’d say he’d be kind of a dick if he didn’t, but, well—” Anna said, gesturing around them.

They fell silent again. Thirty-eight Saviors were being used as bargaining chips. That’s all they were to Maggie and Rick—Michonne and Ezekiel seemed to feel a bit differently but understood the play. Anna adjusted the position of her rifle and stretched her shoulders, listening to the satisfying cracks. On the one hand, they’d done some terrible things for a terrible person. But on the other hand, she reminded herself, they were people just trying to make it.

“Listen,” Jessie started again. “About Carl… I’m sorry.”

Anna pressed her lips together and tilted her head back.

“Me, too,” she said.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Anna glanced over at him and gave a weak, sad smile.

“Have to be,” she said.

Loud, successive pops came from the other side of the fence. Anna and Jessie stiffened, readying themselves. Peering around her pillar, Anna watched as the front gates opened. Daryl sped through on his motorcycle and the school bus pulled onto the path, blocking the truck on his tail.

“Now!” Anna heard Maggie shout, and gunfire erupted on either side of the bus, firing on the Saviors.

Arrows soared through the air from the Saviors’ side, and Anna and Jessie ducked behind the pillars.

“Lookouts, fall back! Front line, give ‘em cover!” Maggie ordered.

With that, Anna, Jessie, and the others stepped out from behind the pillars and fired on the Saviors attempting to make it around the bus, giving the lookouts time to fall back. Tobin made it to the blacksmith's hut just before a Savior came around the corner and sliced at his front with a knife.

The two toppled to the ground in their struggle, the Savior on top. Anna leveled the man in her sights and fired, managing to get him in the shoulder and off of Tobin. She spotted Carol making her way across and gave her cover fire. Siddiq soon followed, relieving her of Tobin’s care.

Two shots fired from the balcony.

“Fall back!” Anna shouted.

Everyone on the porch filed inside the house, Anna and Jessie covering them and the others in the yard as they ran inside, slamming the doors shut. Finally, the siblings pulled the canisters from their pockets and popped them, tossing them into the yard.

Three explosions went off in plumes of smoke and fire, and they aimed for the headlights of the vehicles until they were bathed in complete darkness.

Silently, Anna made her way off the porch, feeling her way down and to the right of the door, knowing Jessie was going left. Negan’s high-pitched whistle rang out, and Anna’s lip curled in irritation. It rang out again, and then a third time as Anna leaned into one of the trucks, turning the key in the ignition just enough to get the battery on.

She counted to three, aware that the others wouldn’t see any signal she gave, and turned the high beams on, the others following in quick succession. Anna pulled herself from the truck and began firing into the illuminated group of Saviors in front of them. Several fell while the rest ran for the gates. Light flooded in from the gates, and more gunfire came from the newly arrived lookouts.

Anna’s gun clicked, and she tossed it into the truck just as Maggie rushed past her.

“Maggie! Shit,” she hissed, pulling her pistol and running after the woman.

They ran through the front gates, soon joined by Rick, and fired at the retreating trucks until they were gone.

“I wanted them dead. All of them,” Maggie said. “Negan most of all.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Rick sighed.

“Did you see him?” Anna asked, barely able to breathe.

“He wasn’t here,” Rick said. “I saw him out there. I broke away and tried to kill him. I didn’t, but I tried.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said quietly.

* * *

The next day found Hilltop dealing with walkers pawing at their walls, attracted by the noise of the battle. They had quickly put together a clearing crew to take care of the issue while another crew gathered and buried the dead. Few people had slept through the night, if at all.

Anna made her way through the yard and into the house, passing people hurrying about to get things back in order. She jogged up the stairs and headed for her and Daryl’s room to grab some of her things, intent on coming up with some sort of plan to follow up this attack.

As she reached for the doorknob, glass shattered across the hall, and she turned. Emma’s bedroom door was left ajar, and she heard quiet cursing from within.

Anna crossed the hall and gently pushed the door open to see Emma crouched in front of the bookshelf, sweeping the broken glass into a pile.

“Is everything okay?” Anna asked.

“Yeah, I was just getting some bedding and knocked this over,” Emma assured, picking up the silver picture frame and setting it on the bookshelf, a small square falling to the floor.

She picked it up and shook it out, sitting back on the floor as she looked mildly forlorn at the photo.

“You okay?” Anna asked, crossing the room and kneeling on the floor beside her.

As she carefully picked the glass out of the pile and placed them in her hand, Anna could just see five people crammed together in the small photo. Anna stood and took the glass to the trash bin in the corner, where she dumped the shards.

“Yeah, just… I haven’t really looked at this picture in a while,” Emma said.

Anna turned back to Emma and went to sit across from her.

“Who are they?” Anna asked.

“My friends,” Emma said. “One of them—his name was Trevor—he helped me get out of Chicago. He brought me into his group and I stuck with them for a while. We found a Polaroid camera one day and took this together.”

Emma went on to describe each of them—Melissa, Trevor, Steven, and Freddy—their quirks and the dynamic the group had with each other, how Melissa had taught her self-defense, and how the boys would never let her go hunting. Anna smiled at the way Emma spoke of Trevor and the small blush that came to her cheeks. But the smile slowly fell away as Anna realized Emma hadn’t mentioned them before.

“What happened to them?” She asked.

“We made it to Arlington, to my parents’ house. They weren’t there. The rest of them wanted to keep going, but I didn’t want to leave yet in case my parents came back. Obviously, they didn’t,” she said, wiping at the tears in her eyes. “The last time we talked, I didn’t even get the chance to tell my mom I loved her.”

“I’m sorry, Emma,” Anna said.

“Me, too,” Emma said, and dragged a hand through her hair. “I ran into Jesus about a month after. Perfect timing, too. I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance to be with people again.” Her eyes fell on the picture again. “Sometimes I regret not going with them. I wouldn’t trade what I have now—I just wonder what could have happened.”

“May I see?” Anna asked, holding her hand out for the picture.

Emma nodded and passed her the photo.

“Freddy is the one in blue, Steven is wearing the hat, and Trevor’s next to me.”

Anna took it gingerly and looked at each of them in turn. Melissa was a woman with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, grinning widely at the camera. Freddy didn’t smile at the camera, seeming put out with the whole ordeal, while Steven gave a half-hearted grin. Emma smiled shyly, her hair longer than it was now, and Trevor’s arm was around her. His brown hair was disheveled and there was stubble on his chin.

Anna’s eyes lingered on Trevor as her mind slowly caught up with what she was seeing—the dark hair and eyes, the way the tip of his nose turned up just slightly. Her blood ran cold; all she could see was a pile of gore on the forest floor as she held a bloody rock in her shaking hands.

She practically threw the photo away from her and scrambled to her feet, backing away from it as if it had burned her.

“Anna?” Emma asked, picking up the photo and standing. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” Anna cut herself off, unable to find her breath. “He—”

“Anna, please try to calm down. Breathe.”

Anna took a deep breath through her nose and shook her head as she exhaled, trying to convince herself this wasn’t real. That she was mistaken.

“Let me see the picture again,” she said.

Emma hesitated, but handed it back to her. It was as clear as the day outside that Trevor was exactly who she thought he was. He seemed younger, his hair was shorter, and there was light in his eyes in this photo, but he was nonetheless the same person.

Anna passed the photo back to Emma and took another deep breath to try and settle herself.

Emma reached out as if to comfort Anna, but seemed to think better of it and pulled away, putting her hands behind her back.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said soothingly.

Anna wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say, if anything. How did one go about explaining something like that? She thought of just leaving without a word, but she looked at the concern on Emma’s face and knew that she couldn’t just ignore it and walk away. Not this time.

“I knew Trevor… kind of…” Anna started, trying to find the words. “For a little while—I never knew his name. He… he was with Isaac… in Georgia.”

Emotions flashed across Emma’s features so fast Anna barely had time to register them. Surprise, confusion, maybe an instant of relief—then she covered her mouth, her green eyes wide and horrified.

“He wasn’t like the others,” Anna said quickly. “He saved me—their camp was attacked by the soldiers from Fort Benning and he saved me,” she repeated, but it just made the truth that much worse.

“What happened to him?” Emma asked, one hand cupping her chin, the other holding the picture to her chest. “You said you were at Fort Benning. He went with you?”

Anna clenched her jaw, and shook her head. “He died,” she said, feeling guilt and shame.

Emma’s hand left her face and she backed up to sit on the edge of her bed, hugging herself around the middle.

“How?”

Anna thought of spinning some tale of how he had died heroically or peacefully, something that might make Emma feel better. But she couldn’t lie this time. She’d never been good at it, anyway.

“I killed him.”

Emma closed her eyes and turned her lips in until her mouth was nothing but a thin line.

“I didn’t have a reason. I didn’t think, I just did it. Maybe it was about getting some kind of revenge because he didn’t help me before. Maybe he was just a stand in for Isaac. I don’t know,” Anna said, shaking her head. “I just know that I’m sorry.”

When Emma finally opened her eyes, she looked at the ceiling rather than at Anna as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Can you please leave? I need to be alone right now.”

Her chest tightened, knowing she was the cause of her friend’s pain. Anna nodded and quietly slipped out of the room; she could hear Emma begin to sob as soon as the door clicked shut.

_Your fault._

* * *

* * *

Daryl walked past the armored Toyota, headed for the house to find Anna when he spotted Tara getting out of the dusty black Ford.

“Hey. You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, pausing.

“Oh, it’s just—it’s just a scratch,” Tara assured, holding her injured arm. “I can help.”

“What if it wasn’t?” Daryl countered.

“Then it’d be my own damn fault,” Tara huffed stubbornly. “He’s back with them because of me.”

“No, he’s back with ‘em ‘cause that’s who he is,” Daryl corrected, his lip curling in frustration.

“We—we got lucky. Finding Maggie… Rick. It could’ve been different,” Tara said. “It was for me, when I was with the Governor.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t one of ‘em,” Daryl insisted.

“But I was with them. Your brother and Anna, too,” she reminded.

“My brother?” Daryl asked. “My brother ran the wrong way his whole life. If he were here, if I stuck with him when he left, we’d be with the Saviors, too, or some other group just like ‘em. But I’d have figured out who they were, just like you and Anna did.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to Dwight,” Tara suggested.

“Is that before or after he killed your girl? Or is that all square now?” Daryl snapped before he could think better of it.

Tara stared at him for a moment, hurt clear in her eyes.

“It is,” she finally said. “Look, I might hate him forever, but he saved my life.”

“No, he tried to kill you last night,” Daryl challenged.

“When we were in the woods, when we were coming here, I saw him try and help us win,” Tara said.

“Yeah. I saw what I saw, too,” Daryl sneered, stalking off.

* * *

* * *

After setting two of the injured people up in her and Daryl’s room as comfortably as she could, given the lack of space, Anna headed for the stairs, her stick hanging off her back as it usually was. As she made her way down, Jesus was on his way up.

“Hey, Anna,” he said, stopping her midway. “Is Emma in her room?”

“Uh—yeah,” she said. “But she needed some time alone. Is there something I can help you with?”

“If you’re up for a walk around the perimeter,” Jesus shrugged.

“Yeah, no problem,” Anna said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

They continued down the stairs and out of the house, ignoring the bag of rifles and handguns in the corner. Between the two of them, they figured they didn’t need to waste any bullets. After they informed him that they would be back before dark, Kal let them through the gates, and the two started around the wall.

“Is Emma all right?” Jesus asked after some time of silence.

“Yeah,” Anna lied.

Jesus eyed her, but he didn’t push for further information.

“I’m worried about Morgan,” he said. “He’s sharpened his stick.”

Of course, Anna had noticed the odd behavior the man was exhibiting as of late and the modification he’d made to his stick, but she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He was willing to fight, and that was good. But he was more than willing to kill, and that was concerning. Anna knew it had to do with Benjamin. She got it.

“He’s hurting,” she said finally. “He’s lost. Nothing anyone says is going to get through to him until he’s ready to hear it. All we can do is try to help him find his way back.”

“You sound like you know from experience,” Jesus said as they stepped over a fallen tree.

“Because, I do,” she said simply. “For a long time, I was numb—it was better than dealing with… everything.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesus said quietly, and Anna nodded.

Not much conversation passed between them after that, and the walk was altogether uneventful. The sun was starting to set as Kal let them back through the front gates. Jesus bid Anna a good night and went to his trailer.

Anna lingered on the path, staring up at Barrington house, into the dark window of Emma’s room. She saw no movement or light, and she wondered if the woman would be all right.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Anna started toward the house, where she saw Daryl standing on the front porch, leaning against a pillar as he smoked a cigarette. As she neared, he put out the cigarette and tucked it into his breast pocket for later.

“Everythin’ all right?” He asked as she stopped beside him.

Anna leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just feel… uneasy.”

“Me, too,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “But whatever comes next, we’re gonna be ready.”

Anna hummed in response.

_Whatever comes next…._

* * *

The night was dark, cold, and empty as Daryl and Anna laid together on the floor in the dining room. Anna laid on her back and stared at the ceiling, barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows, drumming her fingers against her stomach.

“Go to sleep,” Daryl muttered.

“I can’t,” Anna huffed.

“Do it anyway,” Daryl grumbled back.

Anna scowled at him and saw the smirk playing at his lips. She opened her mouth for a witty retort, but whatever she was going to say left her mind at the sound of a cry of pain and then a scream.

Daryl and Anna shot up, scrambling to their feet as more screams came from the foyer. Anna snatched up her stick and Daryl pulled his knife as they rushed out of the room. There were walkers falling onto people, taking bites before getting distracted by the plethora of food. One had a woman by the arms, and Daryl jumped forward, stabbing it in the head before dropping it to the ground. Anna stepped forward and took out another walker with her stick.

“We need to get everyone out of here,” Anna said.

Daryl nodded, and they continued to make their way through the house, taking out threats with the help of Rick, Ezekiel, Michonne, and Jesus. Anna made her way upstairs, making a beeline for the room the kids were staying in when she heard a frustrated cry come from the open door of Emma’s room.

Anna sprinted for the room to see Emma struggle with a burly walker, its teeth inches from her face. 

Without a second thought, Anna ran forward and grabbed the back of its shirt, yanking it backward and throwing it to the ground. She whipped her stick around as it tried to get to its feet. It snarled at her—then Emma jumped forward and stabbed her knife through its skull.

The two stood back, out of breath.

“Are you okay?” Anna asked.

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “Thanks.”

Screaming from down the hall called their attention, and both women ran from the room toward the commotion. They came in just in time to see Carol drop a corpsified Tobin to the ground. Daryl, Maggie, and Rick were soon behind them.

“You all right?” Daryl asked, looking between Carol and Anna.

“Yeah, just…” Carol said as Anna nodded. “He wasn’t bit. But he turned.”

The group looked between Tobin and each other in stunned silence.

“Negan’s bat,” Rick started. “When I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood. I just thought he’d crossed some. But maybe…”

“They have us workin’ for them again,” Maggie said. “Killin’ our own.”

“It’s the fever.”

Everyone looked up to the bed to see Bruce laying there, flushed and sweating.

“That’s what it is,” he said. “It makes sense now.” He looked to his arm and his chest heaved. “One of you—” he said, his voice breaking. “You’re gonna have to do it. I can’t. You gotta do it for me. Please.”

Maggie stepped forward and took his hand as he begged. She nodded and he closed his eyes as she pushed her knife through his skull.

* * *

While Daryl and Rick went to break the news of the poisoned weapons to Tara, Anna, Maggie, and Jesus took a group outside to clear the rest of the hill. The moment they stepped out on the porch, Anna spotted Siddiq fending off a walker.

“Shit,” she hissed, bypassing the steps and jumping off the porch.

The others followed, but the Savior, Alden, came up behind Siddiq with a hoe and struck the walker hard in the head. He immediately dropped it as the group came upon them.

“Hands up, now!” Maggie demanded.

“Hey, we’re trying to help,” Alden assured, keeping his hands raised. “A kid came and opened up the pen. We had people turn. A bunch of ‘em left, but a bunch of ‘em are trying to close that gate,” he explained, pointing to the gate.

“Maggie, look,” Jesus said.

They looked to the gate to see walkers pushing back against a group of Saviors as they tried to close the gate.

“Dianne,” Maggie ordered.

“We’re on it,” Dianne said, taking the other three to help with the gate.

Maggie stepped forward, past Alden, and shot down the reanimated guard on the pen’s platform before she turned back to them.

“What are you doing out here?” Anna asked, looking Siddiq over for injury.

“I went to check on the prisoners, but the pen was empty,” Siddiq answered.

“Where are the others?” She asked, turning to Alden.

“They didn’t say where they were goin’,” Alden shrugged. “They just ran.”

“And you didn’t?” Maggie snapped.

“You saw what we mean to Negan and Simon,” Alden said. “Which might be a dumb thing to say—it doesn’t make us worth much to your people, either, but… those of us that stayed, stayed. We had plenty of chances to run.”

Maggie turned away, a pensive and irritated look on her face. This was an unexpected development, to say the least.

“You said a kid opened up the pen?” Anna asked.

“Yeah, little blond boy. Wanted to know who killed his brother,” Alden nodded.

“Henry,” Anna sighed. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Alden said. “He was there and then, when the others ran, he was gone. I haven’t been able to find him.”

Anna huffed.

“Shit.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

Isaac sat back in his seat, drawing a circle into the surface of the table. Dwight sat across from him, and Simon sat at the head of the table, his knee bouncing. His hands were clasped together and resting on his stomach as he pursed his lips. 

“So, the attack on Hilltop didn’t go quite exactly to plan,” Simon started. “But, that’s no matter. Any survivors will surely be taken care of by their own people by now.”

“Can we be sure of that?” Dwight asked. “I mean, we don’t know. Maybe we should send someone to check.”

“That would be a waste of time,” Simon huffed. “We need to be focusing our energy elsewhere. Enough of the bullshit with Hilltop. It’s time we move on to greener pastures. Right, Isaac?”

Isaac cocked a brow, looking between the two.

“You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time. What do you say?” Simon asked.

“I think you’re both right,” Isaac said easily. “Sparing one person to do some recon isn’t going to break our backs. We should make sure they don’t plan to retaliate, so we can move on.”

“Or maybe… maybe we make sure they can’t retaliate,” Simon mused. “End them like we planned. We get the bullets—we take them out once and for all.”

“We still need to be sure we won’t be attacked in the meantime,” Isaac sighed.

“You’re right,” Simon nodded. “All right, Isaac, I want you to go check the Hilltop. See how they’re fairing.”

“I can go,” Dwight offered.

“No,” Simon snapped. “I want Isaac to go. You, I want checking on the bullet factory, make sure everything is moving along smoothly.”

Dwight grimaced, but nodded.

“I’ll head out now,” Isaac said, standing from his chair, heading for the door.

“And Isaac,” Simon called as Isaac pulled the door open. “Don’t get caught.”

* * *

* * *

Anna sat staring at the coffee table in front of her. They were wasting time. They should have headed out hours ago. Why was she needed here?

“The relay cars are in position,” Rosita announced as she and Jessie walked into the office, back from setting up the lookouts. “If the Saviors are coming back, we’ll have ten, maybe fifteen minutes heads-up.”

“And our ammo?” Maggie asked as Daryl walked in.

“‘Bout what we thought,” Dianne said, leaning against one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Not enough to fend off another attack of that size.”

“Well, maybe we don’t gotta worry about them no more. At least for now. Maybe going hand-to-hand’s our only option,” Daryl suggested, holding up his hunting knife.

“You think they’re low on ammo?” Jessie asked.

“They have to be,” Anna said, leaning back in her chair and gripping the armrests. She could feel Daryl and Jessie’s eyes on her. “It would have taken a lot to get through that herd around Sanctuary. And they didn’t have any guns with them when they attacked.”

“And there’s not a lot of places to find more,” Emma agreed.

“ _Mierda_ ,” Rosita hissed. “They have our bullet maker. They can make more.”

“You think the Saviors have what he’d need to make them?” Maggie asked.

“If they don’t, I know where they’d find it,” Rosita said.

“We’ve got a bullet maker, too,” Anna said, looking at Jessie.

“I’ve got the directions, but I don’t have the resources,” Jessie said. “We’ve got a whole lot of casings, but nothing to fill them with.”

“You said you know where they can find what they need to make the bullets,” Daryl said, gesturing to Rosita. “Maybe we'll take it.”

“That’s assuming the Saviors haven’t already taken it. We don’t have the resources to fight them for it,” Anna pointed out, both of her legs bouncing.

Maggie pursed her lips in contemplation before she began to nod.

“Daryl, Rosita, and Jessie, I want you three to go check this place out. If it hasn’t been taken yet, we move in,” she said.

“And if it has?” Jessie asked.

“Do what you have to do to make sure we win,” Maggie said.

The three nodded and started for the door. Anna practically launched herself from her chair and followed after them, but Maggie called out for her to stop. She begrudgingly turned around.

“What’s wrong? You seem antsy,” Maggie asked patiently.

“Henry.”

“Henry?” Maggie asked. “Kal told me Carol and Morgan already left to go find him. And they will. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“We need more eyes out there,” Anna insisted, shaking her head. “It’s already been over eight hours since he was last seen.”

“I need you here, Anna. Helping me come up with our next move,” Maggie implored.

Anna glanced out the window to the front gates, her stomach churning as she thought of Henry out there, lost and alone. It was such a familiar feeling. Anna pressed her lips together and looked at Maggie, standing at her full height.

“No,” she said simply before turning and walking out of the office.

She ran upstairs to find Daryl in their room, grabbing his crossbow. Anna said nothing as she grabbed her stick.

“You ain’t comin’ with us,” Daryl said. “Maggie needs you here.”

“I’m not going with you,” Anna assured, hanging the stick from her back.

“Then where are you goin’?” He asked, furrowing his brow.

“I’m going to look for Henry,” she stated.

“Anna—”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Anna snapped before he could argue. “He’s just a boy. I can’t—” she cut herself off, feeling her chest stir painfully.

She bowed and shook her head, unsure of how to explain herself.

“Okay,” Daryl said quietly.

Anna looked up, surprised to find him nodding.

“I get it. Go look for the kid. Just be careful,” he urged, stepping up to her.

Anna pressed her hand against his cheek, brushing against the stubble there, as his hand found her waist. He leaned down and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers for a moment before they pulled apart.

“You be careful, too,” Anna said.

Daryl nodded, and the two headed out of the house. They found Jessie and Rosita setting a duffel into the back of a car. Jessie turned and pulled Anna into a hug.

“I know you’re going out there to find the kid,” he muttered in her ear. “Just be careful.”

Anna nodded as they pulled away.

“You, too,” she said, before turning to Rosita. “Make sure these two don’t do anything stupid.”

Rosita smirked and gave her a nod before the three loaded up. Eduardo and Kal pulled open the gates and they drove through, disappearing down the hill.

“Hey.”

Anna glanced to her right to see Tara stop beside her, still holding her injured arm. She nodded in greeting.

“Look, I’m sorry about before. What I said… what we did,” Tara started. “We should have waited. Maybe… maybe things would be different.”

“Maybe,” Anna muttered. “You’d still want to kill Dwight if you hadn’t gone AWOL, and we may have still had access to what was happening on their side.”

Tara nodded.

“I really am sorry, Anna,” Tara insisted.

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it’s not. But it is done, so...” Anna shrugged. “We’ve all fucked up one time or another for one reason or another. It’s a waste of time to stay pissed off at you.”

“So, wait, you’re not mad anymore?” Tara asked, furrowing her brow.

“Just don’t pull that kind of shit again,” Anna said.

Tara nodded and started back up the path toward the medical trailer, no doubt to see Siddiq about her shoulder.

Anna shook her head, breathing deeply before starting out of the gates. She looked to the ground, spotting some tracks from the previous night that had been trampled over by walkers, but nonetheless were headed Southwest toward the trees. She headed into the woods, taking down a walker as it shambled toward her.

Walking for some time, Anna crouched periodically to check for more tracks or signs of a trail. She found a few broken branches. It was easy to see that wherever the Saviors were going, Henry would follow.

A twig broke behind Anna, and she whirled around only to stop short, her stick barely two inches away from striking Emma in the face.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly, staring wide-eyed between Anna and the stick.

“What are you doing out here?” Anna asked, lowering her stick.

Emma shook her head, holding out one of the two rifles she held.

“I didn’t think you should be out here alone,” she said.

“Does Maggie know?” Anna asked as she accepted and checked the gun.

“Nope,” Emma said, popping the _P_. “I came out through the back.”

Anna nodded, slinging the strap of the gun over her shoulder.

“All right then, let’s get going,” she said, gesturing for Emma to follow.

When she didn’t hear Emma behind her, she paused and looked back.

“Everything all right?” Anna asked.

“Yeah, it’s just—I think we should clear the air.”

Anna took a deep breath and turned to face Emma fully.

“Okay,” she said.

“I believe that you’re sorry, and I forgive you for what happened,” Emma said. “I’ve never been in that situation, but I think I can understand. I may have done the same if it had been me. It was only chance that it was him. I’m just glad Trevor—”

Her voice broke, and she inhaled deeply before continuing.

“I’m just glad he wasn’t one of the ones who hurt you.”

Anna looked away, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment.

“I hate what I did, and I hate that it hurt you,” Anna said, looking back at Emma.

Emma nodded, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

“I am going to need some time to process, but I hope that you’ll bear with me,” Emma said. “Friends are even harder to come by, now.”

“Yeah, I can live with that,” Anna said with a small smile as she looked to the ground and shook her head.

“Thank you for being honest. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Come on,” Anna said, gesturing for them to continue.

* * *

* * *

It had taken him the first part of the day to get within a decent walking distance of Hilltop while still avoiding any lookouts they may have put up. Isaac moved through the trees silently—years of hunting before and after the turn made it easy. Up ahead, he could see the front gates.

Approaching cautiously, he ducked behind some brush, careful not to be spotted by the sentries who were banging against the wall, luring the walkers surrounding the community away from the gates.

The gates pulled open and a car sped out, heading down the hill and disappearing. He could just barely see Daryl in the drivers’ seat. Before the gates closed a single figure ran out, heading into the woods a good distance away from him. He peered through the gates, seeing people walking around the yard. He pursed his lips. They may have dwindled their numbers and resources, but it may not have been enough.

Isaac turned to spot the figure, wondering if perhaps he could find out anymore from them, when he spotted a familiar stick.

_Hello Annie,_ he thought with a smirk.

With no one around to hear, he could take her back at gunpoint to the car he had parked in a ditch and take her back to Sanctuary for questioning. If she fought back too much, well…her death would certainly amp things up. Not that he wanted to kill her. How it played out would be up to her.

He followed her, keeping a good distance back. She paused every once and a while, investigating the area before continuing on. By the time they were a good distance from Hilltop, Isaac decided it was time to say hello.

Starting forward, he readied his gun. As he was about to step through the bushes, he spotted a head of red hair and a twig snapped. He froze and Anna whirled around, swinging her stick, pausing mere inches away from Emma’s face.

He frowned.

_So much for getting her alone,_ he thought bitterly.

“Hi,” Emma said, out of breath.

“What are you doing out here?” Anna asked, lowering her stick.

Emma shook her head, holding out one of the two rifles she held.

“I didn’t think you should be out here alone,” she said.

“Does Maggie know?” Anna asked as she accepted and checked the gun.

“Nope,” Emma said. “I came out through the back.”

_Hilltop has a back way out?_ Isaac thought. _I suppose they’d be stupid not to._

Anna nodded, slinging the strap of the gun over her shoulder.

“All right then, let’s get going,” she said, gesturing for Emma to follow.

When Emma made no move to follow, Anna paused and looked back.

“Everything all right?” Anna asked.

“Yeah, it’s just—I think we should clear the air.”

Anna took a deep breath and turned to face Emma fully.

“Okay,” she said.

“I believe that you’re sorry, and I forgive you for what happened,” Emma said. “I’ve never been in that situation, but I think I can understand. I may have done the same if it had been me. It was only chance that it was him. I’m just glad Trevor—”

_Trevor?_ Isaac wondered, and then he remembered the bloody mess of what was left of the man in the woods. _So, that was Annie?_

Isaac felt his chest constrict and his head throb as his throat closed up. It was a feeling he hadn’t quite felt in a long time. It wasn’t for Trevor—he couldn’t give two shits about the guy. It was something else. Something he hadn’t expected to feel when it came to little Annie.

“I’m just glad he wasn’t one of the ones who hurt you.”

Anna looked away, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment.

“I hate what I did, and I hate that it hurt you,” Anna said, looking back at Emma.

Emma nodded, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

“I am going to need some time to process, but I hope that you’ll bear with me,” Emma said. “Friends are even harder to come by, now.”

“Yeah, I can live with that,” Anna said with a small smile as she looked to the ground and shook her head.

“Thank you for being honest. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Come on. Let’s keep going,” Anna said, gesturing for them to continue.

As the two went on, Isaac stayed where he was, waiting for them to fall out of earshot. He decided he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the two. So, he turned and started back to where he’d left his car. It was better to play it safe. He knew Emma was a good shot, and Annie… well, she wasn’t the same girl he’d known in the back of that car.

* * *

* * *

Anna and Emma walked together for a while, calling out Henry’s name every now and then but coming up with only a few walkers here and there. Hours passed and the sun moved through the sky. Eventually, they sat down to eat some food Emma had brought with her in a backpack.

“So, are you close with Henry or something?” Emma asked.

“No,” Anna shrugged. “I spoke to him once, offered my condolences for the loss of his brother. Ben was a good kid.”

“So, why are you out here, then?” Emma asked. “I mean, Carol and Morgan are out here. Why are you pushing so hard to find him?”

Anna stared down at the dirt as she chewed on her food, her chest constricting painfully at the memories.

“Carol had a daughter,” Anna finally said. “We lost her early on. We were pinned down by a herd and she ran off. Some walkers chased her. Rick went after her but… they were separated. She was missing for days. We searched everywhere for her, and—” Anna paused to gather herself. She hadn’t expected to cry. But she supposed she’d never really dealt with it. “We found her in a barn. She’d been bitten and turned.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said quietly.

“Carol never talks about her. None of us do,” Anna said, shaking her head.

“What was her name?”

“Sophia. Henry missing…it feels about the same, you know?”

“That doesn’t mean the outcome has to be the same,” Emma said firmly. “Let’s finish this up and get back to it.”

* * *

The sun was getting low in the sky and the stars were beginning to peek through the atmosphere. Soon, they wouldn’t be able to see a trail at all.

“We should head back,” Anna sighed heavily.

“Are you sure?” Emma asked.

“I want to stay out here and keep looking but…,” she shook her head. “I won’t be able to see a damn thing soon.”

Emma nodded, and the two turned back the way they’d come.

“We’ll find him,” Emma assured. “Maybe he’s already back at Hilltop. Maybe Carol and Morgan have already found him.”

“Maybe,” Anna muttered.

“Hey,” Emma called gently. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, we thought that about Sophia, too,” Anna grimaced.

“Things are different now,” Emma insisted.

They said nothing the rest of the way to Hilltop. It was dark by the time they were walking through the front gates. From the wall platform, Jerry looked down to them expectantly, only for his face to fall as Anna shook her head.

The two were starting up the path to put their supplies back when Kal began to pound his hand against the wall.

“Hey! Come here! Right here!” Kal called.

“Yo! Distract the deadies!” Jerry ordered.

Anna and Emma turned around as Jerry hastened down the ladder and ran off after Ezekiel, who was headed into the house. They looked to each other in confusion before they turned at the creaking sound of the gates opening. There, Carol and Henry strolled through.

“Ezekiel!” Henry called, running past Anna and Emma to embrace the King.

Carol continued up the path and nodded to Ezekiel before walking off.

Relief flooded Anna and she felt herself relax.

“See,” Emma said. “I told you he would be okay.”

Anna smiled and shook her head.

* * *

* * *

It was dark by the time Daryl, Rosita, and Jessie made it to the factory. The three ducked inside a warehouse across the street and found themselves a good view of the Saviors unloading trucks.

“Well, looks like you were right,” Daryl said, peering through the binoculars.

He passed them to Rosita, who nodded and passed them to Jessie.

“Buckets of casings for Eugene to turn into hundreds of bullets,” she said.

“Let’s do it now,” Daryl urged.

“We don’t take out the machines,” Rosita said, shaking her head before she looked to Jessie.

“We take out the man,” Jessie nodded.

* * *

* * *

Anna sat at the campfire across from Alden with Dianne to her left and Emma to her right. Behind her, Michonne sat on a cooler and at another campfire was Carol, Ezekiel, Jerry, and Henry. Anna considered it a small miracle that Carol had found him.

“Hey, Anna,” Alden called.

She looked up at him as she popped a piece of meat into her mouth.

“Do you think Rick will bring them back?” He asked, his voice unsure.

Anna chewed the meat slowly, giving herself time to think before she swallowed. When she and Emma had returned, they told her that Rick had left to find the escaped Saviors. What he planned to do when he found them, she didn’t know.

“There was a time I could have definitively said yes to that question,” Anna said, picking at the rest of the meat in her bowl.

“And now?” Dianne asked.

Anna opened her mouth to respond when the front gates creaked open, calling all of their attention. Rick and Morgan made their way up the path with no one following them, and when they entered the light of the fire, Anna could see the blood on them.

Henry stood and approached Morgan. As if he didn’t believe Henry was real, Morgan reached out and touched his shoulder, gripped his torn armor and patted his face.

“I, um… I killed them,” Morgan finally said as he pulled away. “I killed the man who killed your brother. I did. I killed him.”

Henry reached up and touched Morgan on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No,” Morgan said, taking Henry’s hand off his shoulder and shaking his head. “No. Don’t ever be sorry.”

Morgan walked away after that, disappearing around the blacksmiths hut as Rick continued past them toward the house. He shot a glance at Alden and then Anna but said nothing.

“Guess I have my answer,” Alden said.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said.

* * *

* * *

“We’ve depleted their resources and their numbers, but they’re still up and running. It doesn’t look like they’re planning on attacking just yet, but they’ve got lookouts,” Isaac said, standing in front of Simon as the man sat in Negan’s usual chair in the conference room.

Simon nodded quietly, pursing his lips.

“Did you see anyone coming or going?” Simon asked.

Isaac thought of the car that left, and Anna and Emma walking through the woods, searching—for what or who, he didn’t know.

“No. Not that I saw,” Isaac finally said.

Simon inhaled deeply through his nose as he frowned, getting to his feet. He stepped up to Isaac, pulling up his pants before clapping Isaac on either shoulder, holding him there.

“I knew that I could count on you, Isaac,” Simon said pulling away and walking around the table. “You’re a good man to have around. Trustworthy, loyal—” he paused to look back at Isaac. “A true friend.” He continued walking. “And that is why I want you to be my second in command. What do you say?”

Isaac raised his eyebrows in a look of surprise and gaped at Simon.

“I-I would be honored,” he stammered as believably as possible.

“Great!” Simon cheered, clapping his hands. “Now, you go get some rest—we’ve got a big day tomorrow!”

Isaac flashed a smile and left. He headed back to his room, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he walked down the hall. He was frustrated to say the least. With Negan out of the way and Simon taking charge, it changed things. Isaac would have to be more careful. Now there was nowhere to point Simon’s volatile nature.

Perhaps this was for the best. After all, he was closer to Simon than to Negan. He could work with this, Isaac assured himself as he came to the door of his little one room apartment. He just needed some time to shift his strategy.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside the darkness, shutting himself within. As he reached for the overhead light switch, there was a click and the yellow light of a lamp filled the room. Isaac immediately pulled his gun and spun around, aiming and ready to fire when his eyes landed on Negan lounging in his armchair.

“Hey there, Isaac,” he said, leaning forward. “Miss me?”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_38 days after the fall of the farmhouse…,_

Isaac coughed, his chest heaving as he groaned and clutched his side. He couldn’t decide if he was dead or not. He opened his eyes, staring at the dull, overcast sky that peeked through the trees. His skin was cold and he couldn’t quite feel anything. Maybe he was dead.

He pulled his hand away from his side to inspect his fingers, finding them coated in blood. How much had he lost?

Forcing himself to sit up, Isaac looked around the camp, and all he saw was death. Everyone he’d called “friend” was splayed out and riddled with bullets and there were no guns to be seen. Isaac staggered to his feet; his face was pinched as white-hot pain radiated through his side. He could almost feel the bullet still lodged in him. He stumbled over to the run-down car, leaning against it as he peered through the window.

The backseat was empty, the door on the other side of the car left wide open. He cursed under his breath. Everything was gone. Everything he’d worked so hard to cultivate, ripped away.

He moved around the back of the car, using it for support, finding an obvious trail leading away into the woods.

Barely able to stand, Isaac followed the trail, his only thought being that maybe Annie was still alive.

As he walked, he used the trees for support, spotting blood on a few of them before he finally came upon a corpse. He dropped down beside it, picking up the bloody rock lying next to its head.

The head was a mess of gore and brain matter, but he recognized the jacket as belonging to Trevor.

“Well, shit,” Isaac huffed, dropping the rock and pushing himself to his feet.

There was still a trail to follow, however old, and it led toward the neighborhood not far from where they’d decided to camp. He walked past the cookie cutter houses of what resembled a delightful place to live, though overgrown and dilapidated, and looked for any sign of Annie. Whoever had killed Trevor had to be pursuing her. Isaac could think of no other reason the person would have kept moving this way after killing Trevor.

He found nothing, not one footprint, and he stared down the road with a dazed expression. He had to assume that she was likely dead or would be soon. A shame, really. Oh, he had planned on killing her, but not for a long time yet. It irked him that someone or something else—he couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had been eaten by rotters—had taken that from him. He was in no condition to do anything about it, though, and he knew there was no sense in chasing ghosts.

Unsure of where else to go, he made his way to one of the houses, hoping that perhaps he’d find some first aid. He needed to get this bullet out. The first house he entered had nothing but the basics in the pantry, but it did have alcohol and a craft room with needle nose pliers.

Isaac shook his head, taking a few gulps of the whiskey he’d found before pouring it over the pliers and over his wound. Finally, with a few quick breaths, he maneuvered the pliers into the wound. He cried out in pain, quickly finding purchase on the bullet and pulling it out, his hands shaking as he inspected it.

He blinked, unable to focus his vision on the bullet. He felt his head swimming, and for a brief moment he’d thought someone had walked into the room—then the world went sideways and he was on the ground. The last thing he could remember was a strand of the bright pink fur carpet poking into his nose.

* * *

Isaac’s eyes snapped open and he stared wildly at the metal ceiling above him. He was warm, and there was a blanket covering him. He turned his head to look around the cluttered room, spotting a large, burly man hunched over a desk, his back to Isaac. It seemed to be a storm shelter.

The man straightened suddenly and turned around to stare at Isaac in surprise.

“I was wonderin’ when you’d wake up,” the man said, his voice a rolling drawl.

“What happened?” Isaac asked, his voice raw. “How long was I out?”

“A couple days. I’ve been keepin’ you hydrated,” the man said, pointing out an I.V. hanging from a hook on the wall. “You were shot—I guess you tried gettin’ the bullet out on your own. You got the main part, but there were fragments left. I got ‘em out.”

“Are you a doctor?” Isaac asked.

“Oh no, just have a lot of experience with GSWs,” the man said, an _uh_ at the end of his sentence. “That’s short for gunshot wounds. Tucker, by the way.”

“Isaac.”

“Here, you must be starvin’,” Tucker said, turning around to grab something. When he turned back to Isaac, he held a can of beans in one gloved hand with a bowl and spoon in the other. “Warmed it up and everythin’.”

Isaac struggled to push himself up, and Tucker quickly moved to his side, propping him up against a pillow.

“It ain’t much, but I figure it’s better than nothin’,” Tucker grinned, pouring the beans into the bowl.

He set it in Isaac’s lap and backed away, grabbing another spoon to eat the remaining beans from the can.

“Ma was a nurse,” Tucker said, scooping beans into his mouth. “Taught me a thing or two.” He waved his spoon in the air. “Dad was a good for nothin’ who liked to play with guns.”

Isaac ate slowly, trying to ignore the pain and the headache slowly forming. Tucker talked too much.

“You know, I married a nurse, too. She passed before all this,” Tucker continued. “Her name was Maria; she was from Venezuela. Most beautiful thing I ever did see. Stubborn as a mule, though. But ain’t most women?”

Isaac ate quietly, trying to decide how to play this. Tucker had medical knowledge—at least enough to keep him alive. But he was so damn annoying.

“How did you find me?” Isaac asked, cutting Tucker off in his rambling.

“Oh, well, I heard you hollerin’ when you were in that house, saw you pass out, took you back here.”

Isaac shook his head, setting his empty bowl in his lap. No matter how annoying Tucker was, Isaac was still too weak to do anything on his own.

“Well, Tucker. It looks like I owe you my life,” Isaac sighed.

* * *

“Come on, Tucker,” Isaac called, waiting for the man at the top of the hill.

It had been three months since Tucker had found Isaac and nursed him back to health. As much as he found him irritating, it became evident rather quickly that Isaac needed the man around. If only for medical attention.

They were making their way North now, having come to the mutual understanding that there was nothing useful for them in the South. They needed to move on to greener pastures, as Tucker liked to say.

“Sorry, Isaac,” Tucker huffed as he made it to the top of the hill. “My lungs just ain’t what they used to be.”

Isaac shrugged, and they continued on.

Tucker wasn’t necessarily fat, he was just built tall and broad. He was big, like a linebacker, or an ox. Ox seemed to be the more appropriate comparison to Isaac, because he was certainly about as smart as one.

But what Tucker lacked in intelligence, he made up for in perception. He noticed things about people. He could always tell when Isaac was lying, and that infuriated Isaac to no end. Because of this, he had to spin some version of the truth that Tucker could accept—not a Herculean feat by any means, but certainly a hassle.

They were in Virginia now, looking for a place to camp for the night. At the top of the hill, they got a good vantage point of the area.

“You see anythin’ good? Maybe a steakhouse?” Tucker laughed, nudging Isaac with his elbow.

Isaac scowled, and continued on. As they walked, Tucker began telling him about a time he and his wife had once had a contest to see who could eat their steak faster, laughing at the memory of his little wife packing it away faster than a cheetah could run on crack.

Eventually, the two came upon a small, one-room building just off the road. Isaac deemed it safe enough for the night. It was quick to clear with no obvious signs of anyone having been there recently. After eating a quick meal of granola bars, they settled into separate corners, Tucker announcing that he’d take first watch. Isaac agreed and found a comfortable position on the hard floor, and quickly fell asleep.

It seemed like seconds had passed when Tucker was nudging him awake again.

“The hell?” Isaac hissed, frowning at the man.

“Quiet,” Tucker hushed.

A car door slammed outside and Isaac sat up straight. Grabbing his gun, he got to his feet, keeping low to the ground and moving to one side of the door he peered through the dusty window.

Four men were walking toward the building, all heavily armed.

“Shit,” Isaac hissed.

“What do we do?” Tucker asked. “I don’t like the look of ‘em.”

“Neither do I,” Isaac agreed.

He had to think quickly. Come up with some sort of plan.

“Don’t nobody move!” Tucker shouted.

“Tucker, what the hell are you doing?” Isaac snapped quietly.

“I don’t know,” Tucker stammered. “I panicked.”

He peaked out the window again to see that the men were now aiming their weapons at the building.

“Whoever you are, step out slowly and we won’t kill you,” one of the men said.

He was tall and lanky, with a balding round head and a thick mustache that extended to his chin on either side.

“That don’t sound too promisin’, Isaac,” Tucker warned.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” Isaac called, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s good,” the man called back. “Neither do we. So, how’s about we lower the guns, and you all come out. Nice and easy.”

The men outside lowered their guns.

“Isaac, this don’t feel right,” Tucker said, his eyes wide.

“No, it does not,” Isaac agreed.

“How ‘bout this,” the balding man said. “I’ll count to three. If you don’t come out, we start shooting.”

Isaac bowed his head and sighed. They didn’t have any options. They were cornered and outnumbered, and would most certainly be killed for whatever stuff they had.

“All right,” Isaac said. “All right, we’re coming out.”

Isaac stood and held his gun aloft, carefully pulling the door open as he heard another car door open and slam shut.

A high and then a low whistle rang out as Isaac and Tucker stepped out of the building, and a man in a leather jacket stepped toward them, twirling a wooden bat wrapped in barbed wire. Two of the other men quickly disarmed Isaac and Tucker, leaving them to stand with their hands up in surrender.

“Well, look at this. Simon, get a load of Lennie over there,” the man said, gesturing between the balding man and Tucker with his bat. “And you must be George,” he said, looking at Isaac. “I’m Negan.”

Tucker snorted.

“Somethin’ funny?” Negan asked.

“No, just… what kind of name is Megan for a guy?” Tucker asked.

“Negan,” Simon repeated.

“Right, Negan, that’s cool. Yeah,” Tucker rambled.

Negan looked Tucker up and down before turning around and walking back toward the car a few paces.

“Get them on their knees,” he ordered.

“You heard the man,” Simon said, gesturing for them to kneel.

Isaac ground his teeth but got to his knees, Tucker following suit.

“Now, then, I’ve got a proposition for the two of you,” Negan said, turning back to them with a grin. “See, we are the Saviors. We save people,” he said, gesturing to his companions as he walked back and forth. “So, I want you to take us back to whatever community you’re from so we can save them.”

“We aren’t from a community,” Tucker said.

Isaac closed his eyes, mentally cursing Tucker.

“You know what?” Negan said. “I believe you. In that case, how about this? You come work for me, join my community. Join the cause.” He said the last bit with feigned enthusiasm. “Get three squares a day and a warm place to lay your head. Or we kill you and take all your stuff. What do you say?”

“Well, it doesn't seem like you’re givin’ us much of a choice,” Tucker said.

“Tucker, shut up,” Isaac snapped.

“No, no. Let Tucker here say his piece,” Negan chided.

Tucker glanced at Isaac before looking back at Negan.

“Join or die? Don’t sound too sincere,” he went on. “Any kind of guy who puts anyone on their knees and offers that as a fair trade, ain’t the kind of guy I’d follow.”

Negan hummed, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he looked down on Tucker.

“You are some kind of stupid, aren’t you?” He asked.

Isaac clenched his jaw as Tucker straightened.

“Well, Megan, I may not be the smartest guy,” he said, “but if there’s one thing I know, it’s people. And you ain’t my kind of people.”

Isaac shook his head.

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Negan sighed.

Before Isaac could register what was happening, there was a crack of wood. Tucker fell forward, catching himself on his hands before pushing himself back up. Blood trailed down his face, and Negan brought his bat back down on his skull again and again until Tucker lay twitching on the ground, his bright blue eyes empty and staring at Isaac.

Negan swung his bat, Tucker’s blood splattering across Isaac’s face as Negan let out a whoop.

“Sorry about your friend,” he said, looking at Isaac. “I just wanted to make a point. Let you know that I am one hundred percent serious when I offer you this one last time. Join me, or I will kill you.”

Isaac stared blankly at Tucker for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened as he turned his head to look up at Negan. He swallowed hard and nodded once.

“Sounds fair enough to me.”

* * *

_Present…,_

“Hey there, Isaac,” Negan said, leaning forward. “Miss me?”

“You’re alive,” Isaac said, not bothering to mask his astonishment. “Thank God,” he sighed heavily, visibly relaxing.

“Yes. I’m alive. And no thanks to you,” Negan said, pushing himself to his feet. “Or Dwight, or—most importantly—Simon.”

“When we saw your car,” Isaac said quickly, only for Negan to cut him off by holding up his hand.

“I’m not mad,” Negan said. “I get it. I’m not here for you to grovel—that’s not what you do. You see, and you plan, and I’m here for something else. You see, I swung by the Junkyard and confirmed your story about Simon disobeying orders, and, boy, am I disappointed.”

“I am, too,” Isaac said gravely.

Negan nodded, stepping toward Isaac.

“I found something else out, too,” Negan said. “Apparently, the no good, spineless rat that’s been screwing us over is Dwight.”

Isaac furrowed his brow.

“Makes sense, given our precarious relationship,” Negan sighed, turning away. “It would seem, Isaac, that you’re the only person I can count on to tell me the damn truth.”

“Well, you’ve proven yourself to be a capable leader. I couldn’t imagine someone else would lead us the way you have. Not even Simon,” Isaac said firmly.

“I know you and Simon are close, practically glued at the hip. So, that means a lot coming from you,” Negan said, glancing over his shoulder as he moved around the room. “But I’ve got to ask. Why did you tell me?”

“At risk of sounding like I’m neck deep up your ass—my loyalty is to you. Not Simon, not Dwight, or anyone else,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “The Saviors… they’ve become family, and I want to make sure we survive. That’s not going to happen with Simon calling the shots.”

Negan pursed his lips, eyeing Isaac.

“No bullshit, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he said. “All right, enough of the sappy shit. We’ve got planning to do.”

* * *

Simon sat at one end of the table with Negan at the other, polishing his bat. Isaac sat on one side with Arat next to him and Dwight directly across from him, beside Gary. Simon picked at his nails, hesitant to start talking.

“I thought they killed you and that you were gone, like—” Simon snapped his fingers, “—like that.”

Negan said nothing, continuing to polish his bat.

“I lacked discipline. And I made it personal. And that’s why I moved things from infection to extermination at the Hilltop,” Simon explained. “Yes… things went bad. Though I think it’s possible we may have found ourselves in a similar tactical situation, regardless of approach. We don’t know that. So, I’ll own it. I just ask that you give me a pass on this one. I’ll make it up to you. I promise you that.”

Negan chuckled, resting the bat on his shoulder as he looked at Simon.

“You know, I remember when I took this place,” he said, standing. “When you helped me take this place. Wasn’t sure I wanted to keep you on board. I mean, before me, before there was a system in place, what you did,” Negan said, as he walked around the table. “Killing all those men, those boys in that settlement so long ago…, a lot of people would think that is some psychotic shit. Like that is the work of a demented, broken, goddamn ghoul. Like that’s not someone that you want to work with, let alone stand next to.”

Negan stopped behind Simon

“So, I figured I’d keep my eye on you. And I did. And everything seemed to work out right up until this point,” Negan sighed. “I’m gonna need you on your knees.”

Simon pursed his lips and glanced over his shoulder before pushing himself from the table and getting down to his knees, clasping his hands behind his back.

“You gonna make a move, or is that it?” Negan asked.

“No move to make,” Simon said simply.

“No. There isn’t,” Negan agreed. “All is forgiven. Get your ass up.” He clapped Simon on the shoulder as he passed, heading back for his seat at the head of the table. “We’re good.”

Simon blinked in surprise and got to his feet.

“I won’t let you down,” he insisted. “Not you.”

“I appreciate the hell out of that,” Negan said, tapping his bat against the table twice.

Isaac pulled the map out of his back pocket and unfolded it, laying it flat on the table to show several black circles and an _x_ all in a cluster.

“This is where we start…,” Negan said, pointing to one circle toward the middle. “The first of our new staging posts. See, we do not have to take the Hilltop. We just have to make sure that the farmers can’t leave. We stay nimble. We stay light. We plink their asses every time one of them tries to poke their head out. Sometimes right in front, sometimes from a mile away, but every goddamn time.”

“Like they did to us?” Dwight wondered aloud.

“Exactly. Tit for tat. You can thank Isaac for that,” Negan praised. “Tomorrow afternoon, I am going to take a ten-head team to this spot. I am stocking it with supplies and ammo that Dr. Smartypants is making. Everyone else here,” he said, pointing at the others, “is gonna do the same thing; same time, different spot. End of day tomorrow, we will have cache after cache around that Hilltop and always be spitting distance from a reload. There will be teams around that place… snipin’ them, one by one, day after day, until we have full… attrition.”

“It’s an ambitious plan with testicular heft, I’ll give you that,” Simon said, looking between Negan and Isaac. “Very happy to have you back, boss man.”

“Damn good to be back. All right,” Negan said, “everybody, clear out. Except for you, Dwight. Got a few things we need to kick around.”

Isaac and the others got to their feet and headed for the door, leaving Negan alone with Dwight. Isaac started down the hall with Simon at his side, while Gary and Arat started off to gather their teams.

The moment Simon and Isaac made it around the corner, Simon yanked Isaac into the nearest room and shut the door.

“This is bad,” Simon hissed, pulling at his hair. “This is really bad.”

“Calm down,” Isaac said easily. “We can figure this out.”

“How long have you known he was back?” Simon asked, almost accusatory.

“Since just before the meeting. He asked me to help him come up with a plan. I didn’t have time to warn you,” Isaac insisted.

Simon nodded, hands on his hips.

“We’ve only got one option now,” Simon said, wiping at his mustache. “Only one way to make sure he stays gone.”

“Simon?” Isaac asked, knowing full well where the man was going.

“Are you with me?” Simon asked, stepping toward him. “I’m not saying anything long and drawn out. Simple and clean. End it. Once and for all.”

“You’re gonna need backup,” Isaac said. “Before, during, after. People who will support your taking charge.”

“You’re right. I know I can get my guys,” Simon nodded. “And I can sway Dwight. I know I can.”

“Do that, and you’ll be set up,” Isaac assured.

“All right,” Simon said. “You focus on this plan of yours, put on a good show. I’ll take care of the rest. Thank you, Isaac” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I knew I could trust you.”

Without another word, Simon slipped out of the room. Isaac smiled.

* * *

Isaac stood outside by the dumpster beside Dwight, who paced back and forth. They said nothing to each other. They knew what was about to happen. No need for chitchat.

A door opened and Gary walked out, followed by some others, including Gregory.

“Hey,” Gary greeted. “Some shit, huh? Yeah. Got to think, uh… you wanted this before we did.”

Dwight bowed his head, saying nothing. Another door opened and Simon came out, followed by a small group. They all formed a circle in front of the dumpster, Simon moving to stand in the middle.

“If you’re here right now, you’re in,” he announced. “We can talk about approaches and finesses, but you are in. No take backs. We need to make this quick, quiet, and respectful. Man’s done a lot for us. He deserves that.”

Simon turned to Dwight.

“You… have some legitimate personal issues with the man. The kill is yours if you want it. Something quiet. I mean, not a knife,” Simon chuckled. “Can’t make it that personal. A silencer. We call a meeting. And that’s it. The next order of business is to set the break, to start the healing.”

He looked around at the others.

“The catalyzing event to facilitate that is the destruction of the Hilltop and its residents. We’ll make it a monument of compliance. Sorry, Gregory,” he said, nodding to Gregory. “And then… we get on with our lives. Right Dwight? Isaac?” He asked, looking between the two.

They said nothing, and Dwight gave Negan’s signature whistle, receiving an answering call as Negan stepped out from behind the dumpster.

“Thank you, D, Isaac. I’ll take it from here,” he said, chuckling.

“Three… two… one,” Negan counted off, and several silenced gunshots took out the surrounding Saviors, leaving only Negan, Dwight, Isaac, Simon, and Gregory.

Arat, D.J. and others appeared from their hiding places, guns aloft and aimed at Simon. Simon stared wildly between Isaac and Dwight.

“You son of a bitch!” Simon roared, launching himself toward Isaac only to be grabbed and held back.

“Now there is the Simon that I know,” Negan grinned. “He comes right at you instead of that backstabby bullshit.”

“Why?” Simon demanded. “After everything he did to you?” He asked Dwight. “Why do this?”

“He’d win,” Dwight shrugged.

“And you?” He asked, glaring at Isaac. “After everything we’ve been through. I thought you were my friend!”

Isaac stared blankly back at him.

“Oh, ice cold,” Negan laughed, smashing Lucille through the skull of one of the dead Saviors. “You killed all the garbage people, Simon. After I specifically told you not to do that shit. Yeah, Isaac told me about that the same day,” he said, smashing another skull as the Saviors holding Simon turned him to face Negan fully. “But… after all this, and me being me… I’m still gonna give you your shot. You want to be the man, you got to beat the man. If you can do that… then, hell…,” Negan hummed. “You should be the man.”

* * *

The Saviors were gathered on the warehouse floor, Negan and Simon standing on either side of a ring of people. It was as silent as a boneyard as the two men stared each other down.

“Everyone!” Simon called, stepping forward and facing the others as he removed his jacket. “After this is done, we get to work. Just know that I didn’t want this. But the Sanctuary must stand.” He rolled up his sleeves above the elbow, walking around the circle. “This is not the man to prosecute this conflict. Just want to say… a grateful enclave—” he swung around and struck Negan across the jaw. “Thanks you!”

Simon dragged Negan to his feet, and struck him again. Negan backed up, and Simon charged him. Negan caught him and elbowed him in the shoulder blades before shoving him to the ground. They grabbed for each other, grunting, punching, and struggling to take the other down.

Finally, Negan slammed his fist in Simon’s nose, making him wobbly on his feet. He continued an onslaught of blows, dodging a swing from Simon and headbutting him before kicking his feet out from under him. Simon hit the ground hard, and Negan promptly stomped his diaphragm.

From the corner of his eye, Isaac saw Dwight turn and shove Gregory around a corner. Simon gasped and choked as Negan kicked him in the ribs repeatedly. Negan drew back and circled around him. Isaac covered his smirk when Dwight returned without Gregory. At that same moment, Negan climbed on top of Simon and wrapped his hands around his neck. His groans echoed throughout the chamber.

“You went for it all at the Hilltop. You got Saviors killed, and then you ran away like a coward!” Negan hissed.

Simon reached out in Isaac's direction, a desperate plea for help as his face turned red and his eyes bulged from their sockets.

“You got shown up one too many times,” Negan went on. “Those people, they are always gonna know that there’s a loophole, a way to skate. They are always gonna be looking for that chance to push back, so now I gotta kill all of ‘em just like I’m gonna kill you!”

Isaac winced at the sound of Simon’s windpipe cracking. Negan stood, his breath shallow.

“What an asshole,” he said, walking off.

* * *

Isaac lounged in his arm chair, sipping on a glass of water as he gazed at Annie’s photo in his hand. By now, Simon would be hanging from the fence and, having served his purpose, Dwight would be thrown in a cell. He smiled as he ran his thumb along Annie’s face. Just a little bit longer.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Daryl stirred, opening his eyes to look up at the dusty ceiling of the warehouse. Jessie, who had taken final watch, walked up and passed him a granola bar and the canteen. He ate and drank, and the three gathered to go over the plan one last time.

“And we’re sure this’ll work?” Jessie asked.

“It’ll work,” Rosita assured.

“We need to be prepared if it doesn’t,” Jessie pointed out.

“It’ll work,” Rosita repeated.

Jessie shot her an exasperated look and she rolled her eyes, but Daryl caught the way Rosita’s lips twitched up at the corners. Daryl glanced at Jessie and saw the same look. He shook his head.

“He’s right. If it don’t work, we gotta be ready to end it quick,” Daryl insisted.

“We will,” Rosita said, getting to her feet.

Sure of their plan, the three gathered their gear and headed to their positions. Rosita split off from them to sneak around the buildings. Once Daryl and Jessie made it to their place, they could see the one guard on the main door.

Daryl readied his crossbow as they watched and waited.

“So, Rosita?” Daryl asked, glancing at Jessie.

“What about her?” Jessie asked, not looking at him.

“I saw that look you had. Y’all been makin’ eyes at each other all night,” Daryl teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessie scoffed.

“Whatever,” Daryl shrugged. “Ain’t none of my business.”

“No business to be had,” Jessie huffed.

Hours passed before there was any change, and it was only the guard being switched out. Daryl and Jessie stayed vigilant.

“You sure there’s nothin’ goin’ on between you and Rosita?” Daryl asked.

“There’s nothing between me and Rosita,” Jessie said, clearly annoyed. “We’ve known each other for a long time. We’re friends.”

Daryl hummed, disbelieving.

“Even if there was something, Abraham died barely a month ago,” Jessie huffed.

“They weren’t together longer than that,” Daryl pointed out.

“She was with Spencer,” Jessie grumbled.

“Guess Spencer had a type,” Daryl said. “That piss you off? First he went for your sister, then he took your girl?”

“Rosita is not my girl,” Jessie mumbled.

Daryl opened his mouth to retort, but movement caught their attention and the conversation was cut short.

Finally, they watched as Eugene stepped out of the building behind another guard, a rifle bag slung over his shoulder. Daryl aimed and fired, his bolt embedding itself into the guard’s forehead. Eugene, panicking, turned to run back inside, only for Rosita to appear from around the corner, dropping the other guard.

Jessie and Daryl approached, weapons raised and ready. Daryl grabbed his bolt as Jessie pressed his gun against Eugene’s head and Rosita snatched the rifle from his shoulder. They rushed off without a word, forcing Eugene forward.

* * *

* * *

Anna and Emma started through the gates, rifles hanging from their shoulders as they made their way into the woods. Hilltop was low on rations, despite having less mouths to feed after the attack, and Anna had offered to go hunting. Emma insisted on joining, deciding now would be as good a time as any to learn.

The two walked for a little while, Anna keeping her eyes on the ground in search of a trail. She finally spotted what looked like rabbit droppings, and she paused and crouched close to the ground. 

“Emma, take a look at this,” she called, waving for Emma to join her.

“Poop?” Emma asked, kneeling beside her.

“Rabbit poop,” Anna said.

“Uh huh,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose.

“You can tell by looking at it that it’s fresh,” Anna said. “And also that they went West.”

“How can you tell that?”

“See how it’s slightly dragged in that direction?”

Emma nodded after a moment.

“We’ll go that way, keep an eye out for tracks or any other traces,” Anna said as she stood.

“Thanks for taking me out with you,” Emma said, as they continued walking.

“I told you I’d teach you to hunt,” Anna shrugged.

“I know, just… thanks,” Emma said.

Things had been slowly patching back together since they’d spoken the day before. A sort of peaceful understanding settling between them. They were, however hesitantly, friends, and as Emma had said, those were hard to come by.

“Why didn’t you bring your stick?” Emma asked.

“I left it with the blacksmith,” Anna said, stepping over a tree.

“Earl? Why?”

“I had an idea,” Anna smiled.

* * *

* * *

“I can’t help but suspect that the reason I’m being taken alive is, despite… what completely warranted bad blood exists between us, you still harbor a vestigial nostalgia for our erstwhile camaraderie,” Eugene rambled.

Clenching his jaw, Daryl pulled his hunting knife, shifting his crossbow to his other hand. If Eugene didn’t shut up, Daryl would make him.

“And in light of that,” Eugene went on, “I’m willing to just shut my grub flap and give you your space until you see such a time as you’re ready to break the ice, one traveling companion—”

Daryl whirled around and shoved his knife in Eugene’s trembling face.

“Shut your mouth before I cut your tongue out!” He snarled.

“All right!” Rosita said, pushing herself between them. “We got to keep going.”

Jessie gently pulled Daryl back. He yanked himself out of Jessie’s grip and tucked his knife back in its sheath as he stepped away.

“They have to be out looking for him by now,” Jessie warned.

Daryl huffed, turning on his heel and continuing on.

“Thank you. I—”

“Shut up,” Rosita and Jessie snapped.

“Let’s go,” Rosita sighed.

They walked in blissful silence for a few more minutes before Eugene found it necessary to speak again.

“When I told Negan I made the bullet, it was to save your life. I didn’t think. I just acted on your behalf,” Eugene went on, referring to Rosita. “And I fully expected the crack of the bat to be the last thing I heard, but that didn’t happen. And then I thought they would torture me. But they didn’t. They gave me a chance to live. And I tried to resist. I tried to rise above my biological imperative, but that is not who I am.”

“I know who you are,” Rosita sneered. “You’re the reason they were able to escape the Sanctuary. Everything that’s happened since then, everyone who’s died. That’s on you.”

“Rick’s the one who pushed us all to take the Saviors on,” Eugene insisted. “He’s the one who jumped headlong into this shit-storm with no waders—”

Before anyone could react, Jessie had Eugene shoved against the wall, his gun pressed under his chin with a look of pure loathing in his near-black eyes.

“You’re selfish, and you’re a coward, and you’re a traitor. You tried to resist?” Jessie scoffed. “You turned your back on the only friends you ever had the second they offered you the chance. Killing you right now would actually make the world a better place.”

He pulled his gun away and stepped back.

“But we’re not gonna kill you, not because we give a flying fuck about you,” he spat out, his lip curling in disgust. “We’re gonna stick you in the darkest hole we can find, and the only time you’ll see the light of day is when we need you to teach us how to do something. So, don’t worry… you’ll get what you want. You’ll live. But we’re going to force you to do something useful with your pathetic life. Now get moving and shut the hell up.”

Jessie shoved Eugene back onto the road, and they continued walking.

* * *

* * *

“Aim for the head. It’ll be the quickest way,” Anna whispered, just enough for Emma to hear.

Emma nodded, keeping her rifle trained in front of her. Anna took a careful step back, waiting for Emma to pull the trigger. She flinched as the bullet exploded from the barrel. An instant later, the deer dropped to the ground.

“All right, let’s go get your prize,” Anna said, patting Emma on the shoulder as she walked past.

Anna adjusted the rabbits and squirrels hanging by strings from her shoulder and took her knife out to deal with the approaching walkers. She dispatched them easily and knelt beside the deer. Emma had gotten the creature clean in the head.

“Nice shot,” Anna praised, pulling her hunting knife to begin dressing it. “First thing you want to do is field dress it. Remove all of the internal organs and as much of the windpipe as possible. Try not to get dirt or fur inside, and don’t hurt yourself while doing it. Did you bring those plastic bags I told you to grab?”

“Right,” Emma said, pulling off her pack and digging out the bags as she eyed Anna’s work.

Anna looked up at Emma, noting the sad and disgusted tone to her voice as she took the plastic bags. She turned back to the deer, making sure not to contaminate the meat or cut herself as she scooped out the organs and set them inside the bags, handing them back to Emma who, while dry heaving, put them in her pack.

“Hey, I know it’s hard, but it’s necessary. We need to eat,” Anna said. “It’s okay to be sad about it. Just don’t let it stop you from doing what you have to, to survive.”

“Was it hard for you when you started?” Emma asked weakly.

“I hated it,” Anna admitted. “I still don’t like it.”

“So, why do you do it? I mean, Daryl hunts just fine on his own,” Emma pointed out.

“He can’t be the only one doing it, though. I learned because I wanted to carry my weight. To contribute,” Anna said, shaking her head. “And, who knows, maybe there’s gonna be a time when I’m the only one who can do it.”

Emma nodded, a grave look on her face.

“Let’s get this back to Hilltop,” Anna said, bending to grab the deer by its front feet.

Emma walked around and took its hind legs and they started back the way they’d come, with the promise of learning to skin and clean, at which Anna could see Emma’s skin blanch, but neither said anything more.

* * *

* * *

“They must’ve heard us pull up,” Jessie sighed as they watched the walkers lingering around their car shamble toward them.

“I got it,” Daryl said. “Watch him.”

“I’ll help you,” Jessie assured. “You got this?” He asked, glancing back at Rosita.

Rosita nodded and Daryl and Jessie started taking out the walkers.

“Shit!”

Daryl looked over to Rosita to see her running after Eugene, pausing to take out the walkers that came around the corner before continuing. Daryl and Jessie ran after her, finding her shooting at the fence with a gaping hole, puke dripping from her torso.

“Let’s go,” Jessie called, and they made their way through, running the only way Eugene could have gone.

They came upon a courtyard of ash, black footprints cutting through the piles and further on.

“He couldn’t have got far. Come on,” Daryl said, and they followed the trail.

“We can’t let him get back to them,” Rosita said. “If you see him, blow that pig’s head off.”

They ran for a block when Daryl paused, realizing something he hadn’t taken into account in their rush to catch Eugene.

“Son of a bitch,” Daryl growled.

“What?” Jessie asked.

“The ash trail—it cut off before the street,” Daryl said, pointing back the way they’d come. “We ran right past him.”

“ _Chingada,_ ” Rosita hissed before they turned and ran back to the ashen courtyard.

Once there, they saw that one pile in particular had been disturbed. He was already gone.

* * *

“Fuck!” Jessie snapped, slamming his open palm against the hood of the car.

“Be quiet,” Rosita warned.

“We aren’t gonna get another go at this,” Jessie said. “The Saviors will get their bullets.”

“It’s gonna be all right, Jay,” Rosita said, her voice calm. “We’ll figure it out.”

Jessie leaned against the car, his head bowed as he took deep breaths. Daryl had never seen him quite like this before today. Incensed would be the best way to describe it. Desperate was a close second.

“We need to start heading back,” Daryl said. “They’re expectin’ us before the day is out.”

Jessie sucked in a breath and pushed himself away from the car.

“All right,” he said, calmer than he’d been before. “All right. Nothing we can do now. Let’s just go.”

Rosita nodded, patting him on the shoulder. Her hand lingered there for a moment before she pulled away and got in the backseat. Daryl and Jessie loaded up, and Daryl turned them towards Hilltop.

* * *

* * *

After getting back to Hilltop and through the gates unscathed, Anna and Emma received excited looks and some grateful shouts as they carried their catches around back and out of sight. There, Anna and Emma hung up the animals to drain on the rack Daryl had set up the last time they’d been here. All the while, Anna explained what they were doing and why.

“All right, grab one of those squirrels. I’m going to show you how to skin and clean it and then you’ll do it,” Anna said, pulling her knife.

Emma hesitated a moment, looking at the hanging animals before she took down the one at the end. She handed the squirrel over, and Anna took them to the wood table.

“Lay it flat on its belly,” she said, talking as she worked. “Lift the tail and cut a horizontal line. And then break the tailbone. Don’t tear the skin above that, though.”

She set the knife on the table and pulled on the tailbone just enough to hear the pop of it breaking. Anna didn’t miss the way Emma flinched.

“Are you okay to keep going?” Anna asked.

“Yep, mmhmm.”

“Are you going to puke?”

She shook her head fiercely.

“Go on. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Anna said, unsure. “Take the knife and skin up the backbone on either side, loosen up the hide like so and then start pulling back on the skin—” Anna pulled back the skin by the tail, the tissue making a soft ripping sound. She used her knife to help it along.

“Oh God,” Emma groaned, turning away and bending at the waist, her breakfast splashing onto the grass.

Anna paused in her work as Emma turned back, wiping at her face.

“You good?” Anna asked.

“I don’t like hunting,” Emma muttered, shaking her head.

“Go inside and clean up. I’ll take care of it,” Anna said.

“But—”

“Go,” Anna insisted, shooing her off.

Emma pressed her lips together but nodded, walking quickly away and disappearing around the house. Anna went back to skinning the squirrel, a good-natured smile on her face.

A moment later, a throat cleared. She looked over her shoulder to see Daryl standing there, hands in his pockets.

“You’re back,” Anna said, dropping the squirrel and knife as she turned to face him. “Did it go all right?”

Daryl pressed his lips together, stepping over to the hanging animals.

“We had him, but he got away,” Daryl explained, his back to her. “They’ve got the bullet factory.”

Anna nodded stoically as Daryl joined her at the table with his own squirrel.

“It’ll be all right,” Anna sighed. “We’ll figure it out.”

Daryl said nothing as he began skinning the squirrel.

“What happened with you?” He asked after a moment.

“Carol found Henry and I went hunting with Emma,” Anna said with a small smile.

“How’d that go?”

“I’m not so sure it’s something she’ll be doing again any time soon,” Anna laughed quietly.

Daryl glanced down at the puke in the grass beside the table and shook his head.

“I think there’s somethin’ between Jessie and Rosita,” Daryl said after a few minutes of silence.

Anna’s hands stilled for a few seconds as she processed the information before setting to cleaning the squirrel meat.

“Okay,” she said, accepting the development. “Can’t say I’m necessarily shocked.”

“Me neither,” Daryl agreed.

“Anna! Daryl!” Emma called, rushing back around the corner. “Gregory’s back,” she said, out of breath. “He’s got a message from Dwight.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Anna took a deep breath and opened her eyes to the light filtering through the curtains and shining on Daryl’s face. He was watching her, his blue eyes lit up by the sun, his hair disheveled, and a small hesitant smile spread across his face.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” she grinned lazily, forcing a Southern drawl to her voice as she stretched.

She pulled the covers further up her bare chest, moving closer to Daryl and pressing her legs against his as she closed her eyes. This was the longest she’d slept in since… she couldn’t remember since when.

“You ready for today?” He asked, his hand running along her arm.

“Not yet,” she mumbled. “I just want a few more minutes.”

She heard Daryl give an amused huff, and she opened her eyes.

“Something funny?” She asked, attempting to feign annoyance.

“Nah, nothin’ at all,” he said, rolling onto his back.

Anna scowled at him and rolled over, draping a leg over him until she was straddling him.

“Am I a joke to you?” She asked, holding herself up with her hands on either side of his head.

“A real comedian,” Daryl teased, his hands finding her hips.

“Shut up,” Anna laughed, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

Today was the day they’d finally end the war. But that could wait till later. Much later, she decided as Daryl kissed her back.

* * *

Anna headed downstairs and entered the kitchen, where she found Jessie leaned against the counter with a bowl of dry cereal. They nodded to each other in greeting and she poured herself her own bowl, filling it with milk.

“I’m sorry the plan with Eugene fell through,” Anna said through a spoonful of stale Honey Oats.

“Yeah, me too,” he grumbled. “I was ready to kill him. I should have.”

Anna nodded quietly.

“He was your friend,” Anna said.

“And he betrayed us,” Jessie snapped.

“He did,” Anna agreed. “He was still your friend.”

Jessie was quiet, grumpily eating his cereal. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about that anymore, so Anna decided to change the subject.

“So, Rosita, huh?” She asked, a sly smirk on her face.

Jessie groaned and shot her a glare.

“Nothing is happening between me and Rosita,” he insisted.

“Yet,” Anna teased.

Daryl strolled in then and poured himself a glass of milk. He glanced at Jessie as he sipped on it.

“Man,” he said, looking down at Jessie’s bowl of dry cereal. “We got milk now, why don’t you use it?”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” Jessie shrugged.

* * *

Anna adjusted the stick on her back. It was heavier than she’d anticipated with the spearhead attached. But it was sharp, and it would serve its purpose.

“All right. We'll stick to this road, keep to the trees, we'll get there quicker,” Daryl explained, pointing out the path on the map. “Plus, we can keep an eye on the road that way.”

Anna nodded as she, Daryl, Maggie, Rick, Carol, and Michonne leaned over the hood of the truck, surveying the map Dwight had slipped them.

“Yeah, if they’re planning anything, we’ll see it,” Anna agreed.

“You think we can trust Gregory? With what he told us?” Michonne asked.

“I locked him up inside the house,” Maggie assured. “He knew I wouldn’t let him walk around free. He knew he was comin’ back to that. He doesn’t believe in anythin’ except himself, and he’d have to believe in the Saviors a whole lot to send us into a trap and think it would work out for him.”

“Unless Dwight didn’t tell him,” Daryl said. “That asshole could be settin’ us up.”

Rick folded up the map and shared a look with Maggie. Anna pressed her lips together, ready to offer her thoughts on the matter when Morgan rushed past, stick in hand.

“Morgan?” Anna called, following after him. “Morgan, what is it?” She asked as he looked around.

“They’re gone,” Morgan answered. “They’re doin’ somethin’.”

The front gates creaked open, revealing the prisoners who had left hours ago to clear the walkers from the wall. Morgan raised his stick and started toward them, ready to strike Alden as the others darted out of the way. Henry appeared, knocking his stick off its path.

Morgan whipped his stick around and shoved Henry to the ground, turning the sharpened end on the boy. Anna rushed forward and smacked his stick away with her own, grabbing his once it came into reach.

He seemed to shake himself back into focus, as if he’d been in a haze.

“They were, uh… they were gone… and,” he nodded toward Alden. “They were comin’ in.”

“I asked Maggie if we could clear the walkers from the wall,” Alden explained. “We drew them away so we wouldn’t have to worry about ‘em when we rolled out.”

“He did,” Maggie corroborated.

Morgan looked around, his eyes landing on Henry as the boy got to his feet.

“Let’s keep gettin’ ready, everyone,” Rick called, pulling everyone else’s attention to him. “First team’s goin’ in twenty.”

Anna released Morgan’s stick, eyeing him carefully before backing off. She turned and walked back up the hill to gather her stuff from the porch. However, she couldn’t let go of the concern she felt for Morgan.

She sat down on the steps, checking over her rifle before moving to her handgun. She counted exactly how many bullets she had, not having the luxury of extra clips to worry about. They didn’t have enough ammo to waste. They would need to be fast and efficient in taking down the Saviors, knife kills when they could—if they had to.

Anna pressed her lips together, tucking her 9mm back into its holster. She braced her elbows against her knees and clasped her hands together, pressing them to her forehead and bowing her head as if to pray. On the contrary, she was silently reciting names, conjuring up their faces in her head. It was an invocation of sorts, a call upon the dead to watch over them as they faced a world of uncertainty.

She heard approaching footsteps and brushed her hair from her face, wrapping her hands around to the back of her neck as she looked up to see Rick stopping in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rick said.

“You weren’t interrupting anything,” Anna assured, shaking her head. “What’s up?”

“I spoke with Siddiq this morning,” he said, hands on his hips as he looked to the ground.

Anna nodded, moving to clasp her hands in front of her, still bracing her elbows against her knees.

“Carl,” he took a deep breath, a pained look on his face, “he told me you helped him get Siddiq back to Alexandria.”

Anna nodded again.

“Listen, Anna, what happened it—it wasn’t—” he paused, wiping at his face and sighing. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I tell myself that at least four times a day,” Anna said. “I’m still working on believing it. And believing he’s gone. I keep his letter in my back pocket. I read it whenever I’m alone and can’t stop thinking about him... what I could’ve—should’ve done.” She leaned forward and pulled the letter from her pocket, unfolding it to look at his scribbled words. “He tells me it wasn’t my fault.”

“Did he tell you to find peace with Negan?” Rick asked.

Anna gave a grim smile, folding the letter back up and tucking it back into her pocket.

“He said that everyone’s got to have a chance for what comes after,” she said, looking up at Rick.

“Even Negan?” Rick asked.

“I think you know what he wanted,” Anna said, getting to her feet as she slung her rifle over her shoulder.

“And what do you want?”

Anna recited the names in her head again.

“Everything Negan did, everything that’s led up to this point,” she shook her head. “Even if he deserves redemption, I don’t know if he wants it.”

“And Isaac?” Rick asked.

Anna inhaled sharply and straightened.

“Let me worry about Isaac.”

* * *

* * *

Isaac walked beside Negan through the crowd of Saviors moving back and forth, rolling out bullets and toting guns as they prepared for the finale of this escapade. There was a low murmur of anticipation. Everyone was ready, and the plan was going accordingly.

“I should stay back,” Isaac said. “Make sure they aren’t planning anything else on the Sanctuary.”

“Nah, I want you with me. Sanctuary will be fine,” Negan assured. “I doubt their little general Annie will find another herd to surround the place with any time soon.”

Isaac grimaced. He wished he hadn’t told Negan about Annie, but Negan had put him in charge of getting Dwight to talk. Needless to say, Dwight had not been forthcoming with information and Isaac needed something to show for the beating he’d given the man. Of course, he didn’t go all the way back. It wouldn’t do for Negan to know their history. He had simply told him that the clever plans were, in large part, hers. Still, the less Negan knew about his Annie, the better.

“I think—” Isaac started.

“I need my second with me,” Negan said firmly. “End of discussion.”

“Understood,” Isaac nodded, keeping the irritation off his face.

“Sucks, don’t it, D?” Negan asked as they approached Dwight.

His face was swollen and purple as he stood in the disgusting sweat suit that they made the prisoners wear.

“I mean, even with that disgusting, knotted cheese on the side of your face, you once had these people’s respect. But now?” Negan chuckled. “Well, now you don’t have a damn thing. Load him up,” he ordered, and Laura grabbed Dwight by the collar and forced him outside.

Negan turned, spotting Eugene and Gabriel in the crowd and walking toward them.

“There’s my bullet maker,” he cheered.

“Attaché in tow and order fulfilled PDQ, as promised,” Eugene said flatly. “Every munition personally quality-controlled by yours truly. Sleep be damned and efforts be tripled, the deed is done.”

Eugene pulled a small revolver from inside his coat and held it out to Negan.

“Take yourself a tester.”

Negan chuckled and took the gun as Eugene pointed out a dummy target set up to one side of the room with a T-shirt reading _Rick_ over it. Negan aimed and pulled back on the trigger three times, shooting into the shirt. He hummed as the sound of the last shot died out.

“Regina laid out the plan for you, right?” Negan asked as he turned back to Eugene and handed the gun over.

“That’s why I requested the ride-along,” Eugene nodded. “Depending on the terrain and timing, the pump and priming, I believe we should attempt a one-fell-swooper. A firing line that would minimize chaos opportunity, and alpha-to-omega this thing in less than ten.”

“Are you sure that’s something you want to see?” Isaac asked, cocking a brow.

“More of a “need to” thing,” Eugene replied.

“Look at you,” Negan praised. “Let’s load up, roll out! Lance, Duke…”

A young, lanky man with blue hair paused with a few of his companions, and Negan handed him a map.

“Boylan Road. Map will show you where I’ll be if there’s trouble,” Negan explained.

“No, we got this one locked down, _Jefe_ ,” Lance, the blue haired man, assured.

“Damn straight you do,” Negan said, and Lance and his friends continued on. “Idiots,” Negan sighed. “Why don’t you tag along, Gabey? It’s a nice drive. I got some shit that I want to confess.”

Negan laughed and started outside to load up in the truck, followed by Eugene and Gabriel. Isaac sighed, shaking his head before walking after them. He climbed into the driver’s seat, with Negan in the passenger's seat and Eugene and Gabriel in the back. The convoy started up and headed out of the Sanctuary courtyard, out of the city, and toward their destination.

* * *

* * *

They moved silently through the trees, their guns held out in front of them as they peered through the branches and brush. Anna paused, signaling to the others to stop with a fist in the air. She raised her rifle, peering through the scope. Men were setting up a car and walker roadblock.

She started a countdown, wanting them to move in sync. They needed to strike fast and hard. Finally, she gestured for them to move forward. They got into position and as one, began to fire into them. There were to be no survivors.

Once the coast was clear, the group moved onto the road and searched the bodies. Anna stabbed her knife through the head of one Savior who, though dead, had not been taken down by a headshot. As she returned her knife to its sheath, she heard the pleas of a man to be spared. She looked up to see Morgan ending that man's life, his expression blank.

He stared around, as if lost, until he became acutely focused on the trees. But it was like he was looking at someone, listening to them.

“Morgan?” Anna called gently, cautiously approaching him. “Are you here?” She asked, settling her hand on his shoulder.

He flinched and looked at her, coming back to reality. She frowned at him, concerned.

“Good people, I have found something on our query,” Ezekiel announced, holding up a folded paper.

“What is it?” Rick asked, taking the paper and opening it.

“A list and another map,” Ezekiel explained. “And what appear to be other facts.”

“They’re lining up Saviors on the Old Mill Road. That’s where Negan will be,” Rick said to the rest of the group.

“We have to get to Negan before they figure out what happened here,” Anna said, pulling away from Morgan.

Rick nodded and pulled out his walkie.

“Maggie,” he said.

\-- _“I’m here,”_ \-- was the answer.

“It’s time,” Rick said. “It was a trap. So, we’re changing the plan.”

The team started up the road, headed for the rallying point, as Anna dropped back to walk beside Jesus. She eyed Morgan’s back as he surveyed their surroundings.

"You were right to worry about Morgan,” she started. “I think it’s catching up to him.”

“Do you think he’s ready to listen?” Jesus asked.

“The least we could do is try to talk to him,” Anna shrugged. “Maybe we should have tried sooner, but….” she shook her head.

“Why did you train with Morgan?” Jesus asked.

Anna furrowed her brow and glanced at Jesus before looking forward again.

“Because I wanted a choice,” she said. “For a long time, killing felt like my only option—” she thought back to Marley. Maybe things would have been different if she’d had the stick back then. “Training with Morgan gave me something else to choose.”

“Is that why you modified yours?” Jesus asked.

“Yeah,” Anna said, nodding.

“Maybe…,” Jesus hummed. “Maybe we need to remind him of that choice.”

* * *

* * *

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned… probably,” Negan chuckled as they drove past the trees. “Any second now. See, those men I sent out down there on that road setting up that roadblock with the dead not knowing they're joining their cold asses any second. Because Rick and his band of pricks, they're gonna hit them hard,” Negan sighed. “You know, I don't enjoy sacrificing my own people. You know that, right? I mean, those guys back there, they came up with Simon. Some of us had to take one for the team, it may as well be them.”

“I still don’t understand?” Gabriel said.

“Ricky was slipped some intel, made him think he can get the jump on me,” Negan shrugged. “The thing is, it came from a less-than-reliable source, so if I were him, I’d be scoutin’ ahead. Taking out that little road-block crew is gonna make Rick and his general, Anna, think they’ve got the real story, where I’ll really be. They’ll come to get me. But, see, that is the trap. And that is how we will get them.” He shook his head. “See, I knew there was more to that girl than she led on. Anyway, they’re going to find a map with the time and place I’ll be, and they’re gonna believe it. Because they will have killed all those poor bastards.”

“So, that’s it?” Gabriel asked. “Your confession is that you’re… gonna kill every last one of them? When you spoke before, you seemed almost as if you didn’t want it to happen.”

“It ain’t about want, Gabey. It never was.”

Isaac swerved the car around a shambling corpse in the road. He heard the back door open, and he looked over his shoulder in time to see Gabriel throw himself from the car.

“No!” Eugene cried.

Isaac slammed on the breaks and jumped out of the car.

“Hang back! He can’t see crap,” Negan called as he and Eugene climbed out of the car.

Eugene ran after Gabriel and Isaac followed. They were quick to gain on him as he bumped into trees before grappling with a rotter. Isaac couldn’t help but think how pathetic the man was as he tore the rotter away and threw it against the tree before slamming his knife down through the top of its skull. He turned back to see Gabriel on the ground and Eugene aiming his tiny revolver at him.

“Eugene, I have to warn them,” Gabriel pleaded. “You can’t do this.”

“Shut up. Shut your damn mouth, or so help me, I will use a homemade munition to crack your cranium right here, right now!” Eugene snapped. “Do you understand? Do you?”

“Yes,” Gabriel sighed, dejected, as Isaac forced him to his feet.

“Look at you,” Eugene seethed, lowering his gun. “Where does your faith go when you truly need it?” He asked with a hum. “Seems to me it’s the only time worth holding on to.”

Negan approached then, and patted Eugene on the shoulder.

“Sorry, Eugene. I’m gonna have to call dibs on Gabey boy myself,” he said before jabbing him hard in the stomach with the end of Lucille. “You said you didn’t want to die a fruitless death. Well, you can’t always get what you want. Load him into the car.”

Isaac shoved Gabriel forward and led the way back to the car. He needed this to play out, and for that, everyone needed to cooperate.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

The Militia walked through the field. It was a clear, beautiful day with a cool breeze nipping at their cheeks. Anna was down to her handgun now, her rifle left at the rally point. Anna walked beside Morgan, with Jesus on his other side.

“You want to keep these people safe, and you think you need to kill other people to do that,” Jesus started. “That’s not exactly safe for you, which ultimately may not be safe for the people you’re trying to keep safe. It’s a conundrum. Or it’s not,” he shrugged.

“You can stop people without killing them. That’s what you taught me,” Anna said.

“I mean, you almost stopped me,” Jesus added. “We have a simple proposal. Something to try.” He bumped Morgan’s stick and held it in the air. “This end for the dead,” he said, pointing at the sharpened end before pointing to the blunt end, “and this end for the living. And things will get better.”

Jesus dropped Morgan’s stick and picked up his pace to walk ahead. Anna stayed beside him.

“You showed me I had a choice, Morgan. Don’t forget that you have one, too,” she said in earnest before she fell back to walk beside Daryl.

As they continued on, the group slowly came to a pause, heads turning to the South. Anna gazed out over the horizon, and stared at the herd that moved across it, like a stain spreading across a beautiful piece of fabric. It was the biggest she’d ever seen.

“Holy damn,” Jerry gaped. “You ever seen one that big?”

“No,” Rick said. “Things are changin’.... Let’s go.”

“How much further?” Daryl asked, glancing at Ezekiel.

“We grow closer,” Ezekiel assured. “Yonder, over the ridge.”

With that, Ezekiel left them to catch up with Rick.

“You okay?” Daryl asked her.

“I’ve been waiting for this for too long,” Anna said with a frown. “But now the waiting is over, and I don’t know how I feel.”

“If Isaac is there, you’re gonna kill him. Right?” Daryl asked uncertainly.

“If he’s there… I’m going to deal with him,” she said firmly.

* * *

* * *

Isaac stood at the top of the hill, watching through his binoculars as Annie and her friends made their way through the field.

“Not long now,” Negan said calmly. “This will all be over soon.”

“Yes,” Isaac agreed, pulling the binoculars away from his face and looking at Negan. “It will.”

Negan chuckled and sauntered off and soon Eugene approached, his plump face as expressionless as ever.

“Before we proceed, I wanted to offer my condolences for your loss,” Eugene said. “As I understand it, you were rather close with Simon. I imagine turning on him was exceptionally hard for you. I hope you take solace in the fact that it was indeed the right thing to do. All things considered, he was your friend, so I am sorry.” Eugene faced forward. “I know all too well what it’s like to lose a friend.”

“Not really that bothered,” Isaac shrugged, looking to Eugene. “Simon was weak. The Saviors deserve someone better.”

Eugene stared at him, and he could practically see the gears in his head turning, though his face betrayed nothing. Then he began to nod.

“I understand,” he said simply, turning and walking away.

Isaac watched him for a moment, wondering what exactly Eugene understood. He was still pondering it when Negan returned.

“It’s time,” he said, holding out his walkie. “Let’s get this show started, shall we?”

Isaac smirked, and Negan brought the walkie to his face.

“Well, damn, Rick.”

* * *

* * *

\-- _“Well, damn, Rick. Look at that. Pegged again. Pegged so very hard,”_ \-- Negan said from what seemed like every direction.

The group froze, weapons raised and searching for a source.

\-- _“I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush.”_ \--

“How about you step out and face us?” Rick shouted back.

\-- _“Oh, I am everywhere, Rick. Some more bullhorns, more walkies. Pick a direction to run. See how you do. Make it fun for all of us. Guess what else I did,”_ \-- Negan laughed. -- _“I brought you some of your old friends. You remember your old buddy Eugene? Well, he is the person that made today possible. Same goes for Dwighty boy here.”_ \--

Anna glanced at Daryl, who was seething.

\-- _“In case you were wondering, he didn’t ream you on purpose. No, he is just a… a gutless nothin’ that sucks at life, and now he gets to stand up here and watch you all die, and he’s gonna live with that. Gabriel, well,”_ \-- Negan hummed, and they could hear a gun clicking.

“He’s alive?” Anna asked aloud.

\-- _“He’s got to go, too. We are cleaning house today, Rick,”_ \-- Negan cheered. -- _” And then… there’s you. It never had to be a fight. You just had to accept how things are. So… here we go. Congratulations, Rick. Three….”_ \--

The walkie clicked off and from the top of the hill, Saviors appeared, guns aimed and ready to fire on them and end them all in one fell swoop. Anna clenched her jaw, her chest tight. She glanced at her brother on one side, then at Daryl on the other. She took a deep breath and focused back on the Saviors.

\-- _“Two….”_ \--

She was ready.

\-- _“One.”_ \--

The guns went off and, in rapid, successive pops, exploded in the Saviors’ faces. Cries of pain echoed across the field and Anna stared in momentary confusion.

“Now!” Rick shouted.

Anna didn’t think—she started running. She paced herself up the hill, feeling that familiar switch flipping in her mind as she fired her 9mm into a Savior that came over the hill wielding a machete. Once she made it to the top, she looked around, firing into any Savior that came at her, when her eyes landed on him.

_Isaac._

He stared wide eyed and confused when his eyes found her. For a split second, she thought he may attack. She was surprised when he turned and ran. She took off after him, picking up speed as they made their way down the hill and toward a small cluster of trees.

She fired at him, aiming low. She heard him cry out as one of her bullets hit his thigh, but he pushed on. Anna fired again, only for her 9mm to click empty. She tossed her hand gun to the side and pulled her stick as Isaac came to a stop. She faced the spearhead toward him, her chest heaving and her throat tight. She did her best to ignore it.

He chuckled, turning around to face her as he pulled his knife, all the while leaning on one foot. Her heart pounded in her head as she stared him down.

“Well, Annie, I guess it’s just you and me,” he said with a lopsided grin, something that she would have found charming if it were on anyone else. “So, how about we end this little dance of ours, huh?”

Isaac raised his hands in surrender. Anna frowned at him but made no move to lower her stick.

“You offered us a chance once. Offered it to the others when you took them from the satellite outpost. I can only assume you planned on offering it again before we escaped your mote of corpses,” he said, leaning forward to drop his knife on the ground. “I know I can’t beat you. You’ve got no reason to trust me—not after everything. But I’ve got to believe that offer was for me, too.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “I mean, after everything?”

“When Rick offered us surrender before, he didn’t mention wanting me turned over in exchange,” he explained.

Anna clenched her jaw, her hands trembling on the stick.

“You wouldn’t take it then. Why should I believe you’d take it now?” She sneered.

“It’s that or die, right?” He shrugged. “I’m smart enough to know when to call it. What I did under Negan was by his orders. I did it to survive. If you were in my position, would you have surrendered if there was still a chance at winning?”

“And everything else you’ve done? Before Negan? Outside of Negan? Was that just survival?” Anna spat.

“Yeah, I know. I’m a piece of shit,” Isaac sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you should just kill me, but what would that make you? What about the things you’ve done? Did Trevor deserve to die, Annie?”

Anna ground her teeth, her grip on her stick tightening.

“You can’t say either of us is perfect. Can you even say you’re better than me?” He asked. “Why do you get to decide who’s redeemable?”

Isaac swallowed, pressing his lips together as he surveyed Anna. Finally, he began to lower his hands.

“I think you’ve already decided what you’re gonna do, Annie,” he said. “If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”

Anna stared at him for a long moment. She knew he was right, and she hated it. If she killed him here, now, she’d only sink deeper.

“You’re right, Isaac,” Anna said, loosening her hold on her stick, her fingers numb. “We don’t get to decide who is redeemable. We have to choose our own redemption.”

Much like she had with Marley, and like she was figuring out with Trevor.

“But if it means keeping you from hurting anyone else, I can and will kill you.”

“If?”

“I’m giving you a chance to choose to be a better person,” she said, lowering her stick to her side, her heart seeming to settle in her chest. Peace. “I sincerely hope you make the right decision. Whatever that is for you.”

Anna turned away then and started back to the others. She could still feel the pain lingering in her bones, but it was different now. Some kind of reminder that she was alive. She was above water for the first time in a long time; she could finally breathe.

A twig snapped behind her and the leaves on the ground rustled as Isaac moved. Her body tensed and in one fluid motion, Anna turned, feeling the force of her stick running through Isaac’s abdomen.

He stared at her, eyes wide and knife held aloft. He coughed, dropping his knife as blood sprayed from his lips. She guided him to the ground, pulling the spearhead from his stomach. He clutched her jacket, his body trembling as she knelt over him.

“Ann—Anna,” he said. “N-no—”

She looked at him calmly, watching as the light faded from his eyes as the word _redemption_ lingered on his lips.

* * *

Anna made her way up the hill, wiping the spearhead clean of Isaac’s blood before replacing her stick on her back. The Saviors stood with their hands in the air in surrender. The Hilltoppers, Alexandrians, and Kingdomers gathered, looking to Rick. She saw Siddiq behind him, leaning over a body. She stopped beside Daryl.

“What happened, what we did…,” Rick began. “What we lost… there’s gotta be somethin’ after.” He gestured to the Saviors. “The ones who have ‘em up, put your hands down. We’re all gonna go home now. Negan’s alive.”

Something stirred in her a moment—something like anger as she saw the faces of Glenn, Abraham, Denise, Sasha, Spencer, and Olivia—but it drifted away.

“But his way of doing things is over. And anyone who can’t live with that will pay the price, I promise you that. And any person here who would live in peace and fairness… who would find common ground… this world is yours, by right. We are life. That’s death!” He said, pointing at the herd still meandering in the distance. “And it’s comin’ for us. Unless we stand together! So, go home. Then the work begins. The new world begins. All this… All this is just what was. There’s gotta be somethin’ after.”

This wasn’t about vengeance. It couldn’t be. It had to be something more. For all of them.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

“No,” Daryl snapped. “Hell no. Not happenin’.”

“Daryl, please,” Rick sighed. “I need someone I can trust.”

“Ask someone else,” Daryl shot back. “I ain’t goin’ back there.”

Anna watched as Daryl paced in front of Rick. She understood his refusal. She wouldn’t go back to a place like that after what he’d been through. But Rick was right. They needed someone they could trust back at the Sanctuary, keeping an eye on the Saviors and helping them get on their feet.

“We are trying for a better future here. All of us. I need you to show them the way,” Rick implored.

“I’ll go,” Anna offered, shaking her head. “But Daryl—”

“No,” Daryl said firmly. “You ain’t goin’ either.”

Anna cocked a brow at him.

“It’s not up to you,” Anna said simply. “Rick is right. We need someone there. I’m going, with or without you.”

Daryl glared at her.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He growled, stepping away from the others.

Anna took a breath and followed after him until they were out of earshot.

“What the hell are you thinkin’? We can’t go there,” Daryl said, gesturing in the general direction of Sanctuary.

“Everyone wants a better future. This is how we get it,” Anna insisted.

“What about what we want? Huh?” Daryl asked. “What about our better future?”

“Daryl—”

“You said it,” Daryl interrupted. “We could go back to that house in the woods. Just you and me, huntin’ and livin’. Where we could just be. That’s what you said.”

“And we will,” Anna nodded, taking his hand. “But we can’t right now. There’s still so much to be done before we can say this is over.”

Anna could see his jaw working as he stared down at her, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. He shook his head, pulling his hand from hers, and walked back to the others as she followed.

“All right, fine. We’ll go,” he finally relented.

“Thank you,” Rick said, relaxing. “We’ll swing by Hilltop, pick up Judith and the others and head back to Alexandria with Negan. Put him in the cell you and Morgan built,” he said, gesturing to Anna.

Daryl scoffed.

“That’s where he’ll stay. Alive,” Rick emphasized.

The group dispersed; some headed back to the rally point where they’d left the cars, and the rest remained spread out over the field. Anna watched as the people around her slowly loaded into vehicles that had been left behind by the Saviors. She saw her brother climbing into a deep red car.

“Let’s catch a ride with Jessie,” Anna said, gesturing for Daryl to follow her.

Emma caught up with them.

“We’re all headed to the same place, right?”

The three joined Jessie in the car, and they started toward Hilltop. Daryl sat in the back with Emma, silently fuming, while Anna sat in the front with her brother. It was quiet until they hit the road and Jessie finally spoke.

"Isaac?” He asked.

The atmosphere in the car tensed.

“He’s dead,” Anna said, staring out her window, watching the trees speed past.

“Are you all right?” Emma asked.

“I gave him a chance,” Anna said after a few seconds. “A chance to be better. Instead, he tried to kill me.”

“He’s lucky he’s already dead,” Daryl growled.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to that,” Anna said quietly.

“He was a sack of shit and he deserved to die,” he grumbled.

“We don’t get to decide that,” she said.

Daryl made no reply.

"I wonder why he tried to kill you,” Jessie mused. “I mean, he had to have known he wouldn’t survive that, right?”

“Maybe he did know,” Anna shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he just acted on instinct.”

No one said anything, and Anna glanced down at her left wrist, the silver bracelet catching the light of the sun. _May you live all the days of your life._ She smiled.

* * *

At Hilltop, Anna and Daryl gathered what few belongings they’d accumulated during their stay. As she packed her book and journal into her satchel, Daryl let out a long sigh. She looked to him and waited for him to speak.

“Why’d you give Isaac a chance?” He asked. “After everything?”

“Everyone has to have a chance,” Anna said, setting her satchel down on the desk chair.

“Everyone? Isaac didn’t even take it,” he said.

“That was his choice. Not mine. Not anyone else's,” she said, turning to face him fully. “I gave him a chance because I needed to let him go. I was holding onto it—what he did. It was like an anchor, pulling me down. I was letting it—him—control me. I just didn’t want that anymore.”

“Killin’ him would stop it,” Daryl said. “You didn’t have to give him a chance.”

“I don’t like killing people. I’m capable of it, but I can’t be at peace with it,” she explained, frowning at the floor. “Just killing him? He would have taken a part of me with him. He’d have won, and I’d never be free of him.”

She looked up at him, hoping he’d understand. She could see he was thinking, his brows knitted together, and she realized why he’d asked in the first place.

“This is about Dwight, isn’t it?”

Daryl looked to her as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder, but said nothing.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Daryl,” she said, stepping toward him. “But we know Dwight didn’t betray us to Negan. That has to count for something.”

Daryl seemed to ponder on that for a moment before he finally nodded and headed out of the door. Anna brushed her hair from her face and grabbed her satchel and spear. She took one last look around the room to make sure they had everything and then followed after him.

She said her goodbyes to Emma with promises of visits, and to Daryl with assurances that they would meet at Sanctuary. As they prepared to head out, Anna watched Daryl and Dwight load up in a truck and disappear through the gates. He had choices in front of him. She just hoped he could live with the one he chose.

* * *

* * *

The ride into the woods was silent. Dwight didn’t resist, and he didn’t bother begging for his life. Daryl parked the truck and cut the engine.

“Get out,” he said before they opened their doors and stepped out of the truck.

They stood across from each other, Daryl holding his loaded crossbow and Dwight looking around at the trees.

“I know why I’m here,” Dwight said, nodding. “I know what I did to Denise. To you. To other people. And it doesn’t matter why,” he said, holding back tears. “I knew I’d have to face it… to pay, and I should. I’m ready. I got to see Negan taken down, and that’s enough.”

Dwight took a deep breath, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Me? I’m a piece of shit. There’s no going back to how things were.” He got to his knees, and looked up at Daryl. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m so sorry. Please, please,” he cried.

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped.

He knew the man was begging for forgiveness. Nothing more. Nothing less. He didn’t want his life. Just redemption.

Daryl tossed the truck keys at Dwight.

“You go, and you keep going,” he said. “Don’t you ever come back here again. If I ever see your face around here again, I’ll kill you. You go out there, and you make it right,” he said, walking off. “Find Sherry,” he threw over his shoulder.

* * *

* * *

They returned to Alexandria mid-evening, Anna and Jessie heading straight for home. They passed destroyed houses, still smoldering from the bombing. But not everything was gone. The siblings considered themselves lucky to have taken up residence in a house so far within the walls, as they found it undisturbed.

Anna immediately set to work on packing some clothes for her and Daryl. She stacked books into a box with her journals and, with Jessie’s help, loaded everything into the back of a dirty white van.

“You don’t have to go,” Jessie said as they loaded the last of her and Daryl’s stuff.

“I do,” Anna huffed, stretching her back. “But not right now. Right now, I need a shower and a decent meal.”

Jessie chuckled, shaking his head as they walked back into the house. Anna took herself a long, hot shower and changed into some comfortable clothes before she joined her brother over hot bowls of chili. As the sun began to set, Jessie turned in.

Anna took a moment to breathe as she sat at the kitchen table, knowing she wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. There was still something she needed to do.

She pushed herself from the table and grabbed a light jacket, heading out the door. Walking through the streets of Alexandria, she wondered how long they’d have to stay at Sanctuary.

After a while, Anna found herself in a little alcove of burnt bushes, standing in front of a disturbed patch of Earth, a cross made of sticks marking the grave.

“I was wondering when you’d come by here.”

Anna glanced over her shoulder to see Rick approaching.

“I miss him,” she said as he came to stand beside her.

“Me, too.”

Anna nodded, sucking in a breath to try and calm the pain in her chest. They were quiet for a long moment before Anna finally spoke again.

“How’s Negan?” She asked, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Alive. Siddiq’s gonna stay for a day or two,” Rick assured. “You killed Isaac?”

Anna nodded.

“I don’t envy you,” she said after a moment. “It’s hard, putting aside all the anger and hate. At least I don’t have to face scrutiny for my choice.”

Rick shook his head, wiping his hand down his face.

“Carl envisioned a future where we could all live together. In peace, in fairness,” Rick said. “This is what he wanted.”

“What about what everyone else wants?” She asked, thinking back to Daryl and the broken look on Maggie’s face.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” He asked.

Anna pursed her lips, thinking for a moment until she finally spoke.

“No.”

* * *

* * *

Maggie sat at the desk, Jesus in front of her. The room was dim. She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk and her hands clasped together.

“I just wanted to say you were right,” she began. “About saving the Saviors from the satellite outpost. Having them here. I don’t regret what I did. But you were right. And Rick was right about not killing all the Saviors. He was right.”

"He was,” Jesus agreed.

“Not about Negan,” Maggie went on.

“So, what does that mean, Maggie?” Jesus asked.

“We have a lot to do,” she started. “We have to build this place up, make it work better than before, make it thrive for the people who live here. We need our strength, the ability to defend ourselves better,” she explained. “We have to have that.”

“We will,” Jesus assured.

“But Rick and Michonne… Rick was wrong to do what he did. Michonne, too. So, we’re gonna bide our time, wait for our moment…,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “And then we’re gonna show ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, stepping out from the shadows. “We will.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

The story continues in... _Adrift_


End file.
